Getting Out of the Family Business
by o0obubbleso0o
Summary: In my family, life was simple. You worked hard, got good grades, and went to a good school. You could be what ever you wanted, but most of us wanted the same things. I was on my way to a happy life... until everything fell apart. Takes after Girls Girls Girls and before mid season finale. M for sexual content, part 1 of three
1. Creep

A/n – I don't own supernatural. I tried. It's too expensive.

a/n 2 – As you can see by my profile, I haven't written a fan fiction in a REALLY long time. I love reviews, both rave and critical. Show some love… or at least appreciation for the work done lol

a/n 3 - M rating is for later chapters. If the M is why you are here, just bear with me! :)

Final A/N, I promise! - The M is coming later, I promise ;)

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><p>Prologue<p>

My life sucks. I'm not talking about the superficial, "I can't get a boyfriend! My butt's too big! I have huge pores!" kind of sucks. I mean being happy that I get a hot shower in because the cheap hotel where I'm staying doesn't do maintenance kind of sucks. The kind of sucks where in you don't stay in any hotel for very long so it doesn't matter. It's the, "All of my clothes have blood in them, how do I get this out of my hair, why is my gun sticking, someone give me a knife, damn it!" kind of sucks. But hey, life sucks and then you die, right? It's the same for everyone, really. For some of us, though, the suck is a little more intense, and the die is a little sooner. I'm not a thrill seeker, and I haven't been laid in, well, a while. Comes with the territory. I'm a hunter.

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><p>Sioux City, Iowa<p>

Hunting is usually a family business. Mom and dad feel a spark in dim lighting over a nice batch of dead man's blood and boom, Mr. and Mrs. Hunter are in a family way. The wife keeps the kid's safe at the hotel herself if they are loners, and groups of hunters take turns being on kid duty. Eventually, parents don't come back, and suddenly it's like, hunter graduation time. Having a vengeful rage boner for a particular species of nasty that killed some loved one is a bit of a rite of passage in a hunter family.

That's why it's particularly odd to find myself in a shockingly low mileage Ford Lariat older than I am, (It's got the 86 mustang 5.0 liter v-8 engine! But I digress), heading northbound on i-29 out of Sioux City, Iowa. My parents are still very much alive. Oooooold. But alive. As is the case with nearly EVERYONE over the age of 60, my parents are completely oblivious to the fact that there really are things that go bump in the night. Like my sister and my brother, my mom and dad are both teachers (retired, of course.) I'm going to have to remember to call home every once in a while to let my parents know I'm still alive.

Actually, it's my boyfriend's fault that I've found myself with the strange calling to kill things that should only exist in stories in the first place. Ex boy friend, I should say. He may have been a vampire dick weed, but for most of the three years we were together, he was just a dumbass whose dumbass-ness was just endearing enough to put up with. We had a rough couple of years, and I assumed when he started acting weird that it was drugs, or that he was cheating. I wouldn't have stood for it, but they wouldn't have been killing offenses. Of course, when I came home and found him necking with a chick on the couch, I thought I was proven right, he was a douche bag, and I could move on.

I was wrong. He did cheat on me, of course, but with a vampire. I walked in on his first feeding, a rite of passage for dick weed vampires. I was PISSED. And a little terrified. It took me a while to figure out which emotion was stronger. It was the terror. I hopped in his dad's old Lariat and drove the hell away to my parent's house. They were out of town, and I was a college drop out with no resources, so I 'Borrowed' their interweb and did a little research, because I was not going to put my life in the hands of old Dracula movies and the Twilight series. (Guilty pleasure from my youth, please don't judge.)

Not being in "shape," lacking anything that could be called a "weapon," and not sure how I felt about the whole dead man's blood thing, I grabbed a rusty old axe and headed home. I knew I couldn't kill my ex, but I knew I might have to get over that real quick, and I didn't want to be empty handed.

Being abnormally affected by Murphy's Law, I wasn't surprised to see Dick Weed and his new Vampire Bitch Friend were having some sort of strange vampire kill sex on my BRAND NEW COUCHES. I snapped, and, very messily, hacked off the vamp-bitch's head. My damn couches still ended up ruined because irony and karma are buddies, and I found myself facing down the man I loved for years, and went through a lot of shit with. After all the loss we experienced the last couple of years (loss that now, seems a little supernaturally suspect,) I just couldn't bring myself to put him down. I'd like to think he felt the same way about me. He may have. I mean, damn, he could have killed me, but he didn't. He took the girl off the couch, nodded good-bye to me, and pretended to mean it when he said that if I'd let him go he'd make sure never to kill anyone. I pretended to believe him, and he went on his way.

I'm not sure how vampire society works, they must value secrecy, because not two days later, his "body" was found, and I was at his funeral in under a week, knowing he was still "alive" out there, somewhere. I'd like to say that I _pretended_ to mourn, but I didn't. The fact of the matter is I was really and truly mourning the cheating son of a bitch, because out there or not, he was dead to me. I buried the man I knew and loved in the same cemetery as far too many people we had both loved, and I guess I must have also buried that part of myself that specializes in self-preservation, because as the attendees slowly started drifting away towards home, I had begun to formulate a plan.

Admittedly, it was a shitty plan. Like really amateur hour crap. I knew for sure decapitation was an option, and I hadn't returned my dad's axe yet, so, I figured I would spring a trap. From what I could tell, vampire's nested. Like rats. That meant that with my ex leaving town and his vamp tramp dead, I could be dealing with between 3 and 6 remaining vamps. Since up until a couple of weeks ago I thought vamps were a fairy story, it was hard to tell online what was real and what was fiction, so I used the news paper to mark off a sort of perimeter of suck on a city map. Rationally, somewhere in the middle of all the suck would be the suck hive. And I only half intended to make a pun.

I figured, head to the area (Near the stockyards, not half a mile from my house) with my axe strapped to my back, 911 on speed dial, and wait for an attack. I could probably take one on my own, maybe two if they are stupid, and any more would be arrested, because like I said, the plan was freaking stupid.

Near midnight, I headed out on foot, axe strapped to my back over top of my Jack Daniels hoodie. My tennis shoes seemed to slap louder than normal on the pavement as I headed down the hill and under the train bridge that separated my house and the main road, Transit, from the old industrial stock exchange. A lot of the buildings seemed abandoned this late on a Saturday night, but only half of them were. I ended up loitering near the old strip club, Mavericks. It was where old strippers went to die, and new strippers went to cut their teeth before moving on to bigger and better things, and a likely place for a vampire to find prey.

I was near giving up after about an hour. It was 15 minutes until last call, when drunk, sweaty perverts would be filing slowly out of the strip club and the little dive bar next door, and my nerves had brought up quite a bit of thirst. I was on bereavement leave from the call center where I worked, so I didn't have a whole lot of cash, but I needed a little courage. Rather than waste money on the 5$ cover to see inexperienced or long in the tooth strippers, I headed to the dive, winding down despite the weekly karaoke. I found myself distracted for a moment by an old classic car in the parking lot, thinking of how much the ex would have liked to talk to the owner before heading in the door, setting the axe down in the shadows by the building on the way.

An off key rendition of a country song was in the air, and I found myself pining for the days when I would come down here with a few bucks and drink until my singing was good. To me anyways. There wasn't time for that tonight, however, and I be lined it for the bar, throwing down my last twenty and ordering 3 shots of southern comfort. I tipped a dollar and still had enough money left over for a pack of smokes later. While the bar tender, a girl I didn't recognize, filled the shots, I leaned back and surveyed the surroundings. It occurred to me that anyone in the bar could be a vampire, from the off-key Shania Twain wannabe to the two handsome out of towners at the bar. I rolled my eyes as one of them made a comment to the bartender, watching her saunter back over to me, shots in hand. I turned to face the drinks, shook my head, and raised the first shot glass to him as I downed the first shot quickly. I moved through the last two and coughed a bit. Southern Comfort is strong, but syrupy sweet. It's a strange combination, but a good one, and it lit the fire of courage and bad decision making in my belly as I nodded to the bar tender and headed out, catching the guy from the bar shaking his head as I walked out into the night, retrieving my axe.

I lingered in the shadows of the gravel parking lot, smoking a cigarette and watching the crowds dwindle. It wasn't long before the only car was the classic muscle car that reminded me so much of my ex, and I kind of gave up. Fall in Iowa was like winter in some places, and even though a natural born Iowan like me can call 50 degree temps shorts weather, the crisp breeze and wet, misty atmosphere brought on a chill that could sneak up on you so gradually; you're a people-sickle before you even know it.

Sighing in defeat, I dropped my butt and ground it into the gravel, walking through the alley between buildings to get to the road. The streetlights were alternating, some off, few on this late at night, and I found myself in a pool of darkness behind the strip club, shaking a bit from the chill temps, and a sudden, dire feeling in my gut like I was being watched. I didn't know if I was experiencing some form of Southern Comfort induced spidey sense, or the creepy vibe of the stockyards, abandoned due to the late hour on a weekend, was getting to me, but I opted to ready my phone to dial 911 and held on to my axe, using it as a walking cane as I moved to head towards home.

I didn't make it four steps before the lights of the strip club and dive bar went black. I couldn't help but hum a few bars of "Closing Time" to cure the jitters the sudden darkness and the feeling of being watched brought on. Pretending that I wasn't afraid, I started up the long road through the industrial exchange towards the train bridge, Transit, and home.

There was no traffic, no signs of life, as I made my way. I had finally lulled myself in to some sense of security. I guess that's why I jumped seven feet in the air when someone spoke from just behind me. "Shouldn't be walking out here by yourself," the someone said.

Somehow, I knew the warning wasn't because they were concerned for my safety.

I spun, hand tightening on the axe, but not raising it. I was fairly certain this was a vamper, but hey, call me crazy, I didn't want to risk killing actual people. "Thanks for the warning." I smiled weakly, unsure what to look for as a clue that this guy wasn't just some normal creep.

I didn't need to look for clues long. I noticed around the asshat in front of me that the shadows seemed to move. Vampires may not be magic, like in movies, but they could sure as hell be stealthy. I hefted the axe up as 5 more "people" materialized in front of me, dropping my cell phone. "Damnit." I hissed, swinging like a major league batter at the vamp directly in front of me. I made contact and got his head off, but it's not like how it looks on TV. Bones are HARD. Blood is MESSY. And I was, at this point, a bit of a wuss. I wiped my now bloody hands on my favorite blue and black jeggings (See: Not good at planning, just a bit ago.) and got in position, hoping they would be dumb enough to come at me one at a time.

Vamps are dumb. But not that dumb. The five bum rushed me, and I was hard pressed to keep them back, let alone kill any, swinging wildly with my axe. I saw some movement up the dark road, but I ignored it. If that was someone who could help coming, they wouldn't do me much good if I was dead before they got there. The streetlights flared on in their rotation, and I thanked God for the first time in years. It was the black classic muscle car, heading our way. With the added bonus of now being able to see, I swung with renewed vigor, actually managing to take a hand and put a nice dent in a vamper's chest before the black car skidded to a stop and the two men from the dive bar emerged. Roaming eyes got out of the driver's seat, and his buddy, who I now noticed was like, seven feet tall, got out the passenger, and they each had a machete.

I'd like to give you the amazing play by play of the fight that ensued. I'd love to tell you that I got myself another two vampers and that the guys barely had to save me. That would make me very happy. It would also make me a liar. What happened, is that the overwhelming relief at having assistance caused my adrenaline rush to taper off, and it was all I could do to stay alive while the guy's handily, and messily, dispatched the remaining 4.5 (Giving myself credit for body parts) vampires.

When the carnage was done, my arms fell to my sides, limp, and I dropped the axe. I dropped my ass, too. Right onto the ground, not even noticing the chilly, wet pavement. I had my head between my knees, fighting off a bit of a panic attack, so I only heard about every third word of the conversation that occurred between the two guys.

"…Take her to her hotel, I guess?" In retrospect, that was the tall one.

"…Another hunter… Small time vamp nest…" That was the one that had annoyed me in the bar.

"It was a good warm up case…"

"I need a drink."

By this time I was getting to my feet, thinking about the sore muscles I was in for in the morning. "I need seven." If I'd have known at the time who I was speaking to, I may have tried to be more creative, more witty, with the first words I said to them. I didn't, however, and all I could think about was a bath, and the opportunity to get drunk.

"Do you need a ride back to your hotel?" The tall one asked me.

My brow furrowed in confusion. What sort of out of towner would be walking through the industrial exchange? Then again, these were the guys that I didn't recognize in MY bar, listening to MY bad karaoke, and while I went there enough to know they weren't regulars, they had no way of knowing I was a local. "Hotel? I could barely afford an hour at the Town and Country, and I'm not a fan of roaches, so I wouldn't stay there if you paid me. I only live a few blocks from here. I can walk the rest of the way."

"That's where we are staying." Why did Mr. Annoying God's Gift to women bug me so much?

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. Vampires usually only send out their young to hunt. There may still be some left." The tall one again. I raised an eyebrow.

"So you want me to get in a car with machete wielding strangers as the alternative?"

"She's got a point Sammy. Have a good night!" The bothersome one gave me a half wave and headed back towards the car. I rolled my eyes again. Unbecoming in a 27 year old, but completely involuntary. It seemed to be my reaction every time he opened his mouth.

I reached down for my now completely demolished cell phone, and sighed. "I don't want to make you feel like I don't appreciate the help. You probably saved my dumb ass-"

"You got that right." The annoying one quipped, standing in the open driver's seat door. I pursed my lips in frustration to keep from rolling my eyes again and took a deep, not so calming breath before I continued.

"Do you want to use my phone at least?" The tall guy seemed nice. I looked down at my bloody axe. I shook my head and lifted it off the ground, wiping the blade on my already ruined favorite jeans. It suddenly struck me how weary I was, how heavy the axe was, and how useful it would be if I couldn't swing it at something on the way home.

"You insist on being nice, don't you?" I sighed, and the tall guy smiled just a little bit. "Jesus, fine, I'll take a ride. The faster I get home, the sooner I can clean up and drink ALL the Southern Host." I followed the tall one to the car.

"Thought you drank Southern Comfort?" The annoying one said as he slid in to the driver's seat.

"Southern Host costs half as much and get's you drunk twice as fast. I'm broke. That makes me a bargain drinker." I shrugged, looking down at the leather seat and the blood on my pants. "Are you sure about this? I don't want to ruin your seats."

The face Mr. Annoying made was half surprise, half pleased. "Sam, get her the blood blanket from the trunk."

"Or you could." So, the tall one must be Sam.

"I could, but I'm not going to."

'Mr. Annoying sure is consistent,' I can't help thinking to myself. "Pop the trunk. I'll get it."

"NO!" Both Tall Sam and Mr. Annoying speak up at the same time. I raise my eyebrows, a bit suspicious but fully prepared to lie in the bed I made. "Just a sec." Sam hopped out and went around the passenger side, opening the trunk. I leaned over a bit, saw an arsenal, and strange custom paint job that looked like a gothic kid's first tattoo, but I decided at this point it would be wise to keep my mouth shut. I decided, between the weapons in the trunk and their vampire destroying skills, that I must have just met the world's first real vampire slayers, or the weirdest serial killers. Either way, like I mentioned before, not much of one for self-preservation anymore, so I shrugged to myself and hopped in to the car after the one called Sam spread out the blanket to protect the seats.

The drive home was only a few minutes, but I took them around the back way, so they could come in my ally right to my back yard and hopefully not see the main streets leading to my house. As we pulled in, I finally broke the silence. "Thanks for the help, uh, Sam. And…" I trail off, waiting for an answer, but Sam's friend didn't speak. He looked broody. And kind of hot. In like, a hateful kind of way. "Okay. I'll just call you Mr. Annoying." The one named Sam smirked a bit, and I grabbed my axe, opening the door and hearing the familiar sound of my Rottweiler, Ninja, barking up a storm. He missed his mommy. Up on the hill, I can look towards the stock exchange and see flashing lights. I guess someone was able to alert the cops to the ruckus. I may have even gotten the phone call to 911 out before the phone went dead.

My dog's barking intensified as sirens swarmed through the neighbor hood. "Say… I'm assuming that those cops and paramedics won't realize those dead bodies belong to blood thirsty un-humans. It may not be a good idea to go driving around until they disperse."

Sam nods, and Mr. Annoying just looks angry that I made a good point. "You can sit out here until things cool down. Or you can come in, I guess. Whatever. I have a puppy. I hope you aren't alergic." I shrugged, scooting out of the car and heading to the door, fumbling with the lock for a bit. I heard car doors shut, and nearly dropped my keys when I looked up and saw that Mr. Annoying was standing just a foot or two behind me. I flushed a bit as a noticed that his eyes are green, and reminded myself that I am in no place to be making a note of such things on any guy, let alone one that works with a machete so well. I did notice that his stare was kind of haunted, and I couldn't tell if it was a "Please screw me I'm so damaged and only your love will save me" act, or if he'd really seen some shit. Deciding it was a bit of both, all things considered, I chuckled nervously, turning back to the door and finally getting it opened. I led the way through the mud room, kicking off my muddy, bloody shoes and hoping they did the same before rushing into the living room to throw a blanket over the blood stain on the couch. I got most of the blood out, but my tan couch now had a pretty large brown spot that would probably be there forever.

"Bathroom is that way, through the kitchen. Only room off-limits is my bedroom. I'd say it's because I'm a lady but I'm too bloody to believe it myself right now. Beer is in the fridge, liquor in the freezer, and please, for the love of god, don't get my dog drunk!" I open the bedroom door, and all 250 pounds of German Rottweiler bum rushes me, nearly knocking me in to Mr. Annoying. He's really just a big ol' teddy bear, but you wouldn't know it from looking at him. I love that about my doggy. I grabbed his harness and led him outside, hooking him to the chain and letting my cat in before making a be-line to the bathroom, hearing Mr. Annoying mutter "Thought it was supposed to be a puppy," before turning the water on as hot as it would go and stripping of my now sticky, bloody clothes.

When the shower was done, I realized that nothing had really hit me yet. I should be curled up in a ball in a corner. I should be going nuts. There was no reason for me to be handling my discoveries of the last couple weeks this well, let alone my activities of the last few hours. Then again, I've dealt with a lot of grief, and I'm familiar with the way I tend to processes it. Keep moving forward, one foot in front of the other. If something is too difficult to deal with, you stick it somewhere in the back of your mind where it can't hurt you and move on until something stops you. If the little ball of hurt breaks open, you pick up the pieces, and start over again.

Still dripping wet, wrapped in a towel, I rushed through the living room, hoping I moved quickly enough that no one noticed I forgot to bring a change of clothes in to the bathroom with me. I toweled most of the water out of my hair and let it hang down my back, slipping in to some leggings and a sweater before heading in to the living room. When I come back, I saw that Ninja, my dog, was sitting next to Mr. Annoying, tail nubbin wagging excitedly as Mr. Annoying pretended to dislike him. I saw that Sam was sitting on the blanket that concealed the blood stain, and I grabbed the bottle of southern host that Mr. Annoying helped himself to off the coffee table, taking a couple of long pulls. I lit a cigarette to kill the burn.

"Those will kill you, you know." Sam points out.

"Apparently, so will vampires." I snapped back, taking what I think is a well deserved drag.

Mr. Annoying snorted. I rolled my eyes.

"How long have you been hunting?" Sam changed the subject.

"Hunting? Vampires? This is my first time, officially."

"Officially?"

"Let's just say I've killed two total. One was tonight. The other was a couple weeks ago."

"In your house, right?" Mr. Annoying decided to contribute verbally to the conversation.

"I-" I didn't know what to say. I decided to say nothing.

"Well, that explains the blood stains." He shook his head and took a drink of the whiskey. I blushed.

"Remind me to get a refund on that oxy clean. It must have been defective." I tried to make light of the situation, but failed. I rushed in to the kitchen and rummaged in the fridge for a minute, popping some left overs in the microwave. I came back with some reheated cherry pie. That led to the first spark of interest I saw in Mr. Annoying's eyes. "I made this to practice for Thanksgiving." I took a bite. "Hmmm… So good." I raised an eyebrow. Mr. Annoying was licking his lips. "You want some?"

"I mean… If you're offering, I won't turn down pie."

"Okay. How about I warm up some pie. And you guys can kindly explain what you are doing in town, killing vampires, what it means to be a hunter, and exactly what I got myself in to."

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><p>An - Reviews=love! I appreciate the reader input to help make a more enjoyable reading experience.


	2. Whiskey in the Jar

A/N – Just so you all know, I'm writing and posting these at work for the most part. I'm going to work on chapter two, to get it posted right away and then update with a new chapter once or twice a week from there so I can make some forward progress and plan things a little more clearly.

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><p>"You aren't getting yourself in to anything." I still hadn't wrestled Mr. Annoying's real name from him. Then again, I couldn't really remember if I provided him with my name at any point. It didn't bother me any. Being mysterious was a nice change of pace.<p>

"Pretty sure I'm in whether I want to be or not. You can't unsee what I've seen in the last few weeks." The pie was steaming as I brought it out and set it in front of Mr. Annoying. I held the fork out to him. He reached for it, and I pulled it back, tsking. "Now. I don't feed pie to strangers, Mr. Annoying. What's your name?"

He looked at the pie like he was trying to decide if it was worth eating with his fingers before finally exhaling and looking up at me. Like HE had the right to be annoyed by ME. Pfft.

"My name is Dean Winchester. This is my brother Sam. Now, I'm not cuddliest of guys under normal circumstances, but you are holding pie hostage and we are in the middle of what you could call a 'rough night.' I'd hate to have to hold your dog for pie ransom." I raised an eyebrow as Ninja licked all the way up one side of Dean's face. He looked horrified, and based on Sam's expression, his taller brother was just as tickled by this as I was.

"Awe. Ninja like's you. I don't think he'd mind too much if you stuck close to him. He earned his name, you know. I'd check that old muscle car of yours to make sure he's not snuck in to the backseat before you head out."

Now, I'm not much of a reader of body language, but I'd say Dean looked pretty appalled at this point. I laughed even harder, tipping back the bottle of whiskey and takin a couple of gulps. I was just about to lay off, when I couldn't help but sputter and choke a bit, spitting just a TINY little bit of whiskey in Dean's direction as Ninja ran off with his pie, gingerly licking at the filling that was probably too hot for him. I took Ninja's spot on the couch, because at this point, we'd made a pretty big dent in the bottle and I wasn't exactly feeling inhibited, and passed the bottle over Dean. "There's more pie." I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and smiled.

"If those sirens don't go away, you're going to have to invest in a bakery if you want to keep Dean happy. I hope you are stocked up on cholesterol."

Dean looked at his brother. "And rabbit food for Bugs."

I hiccupped, giggling a bit. "I still have some veggies from my aunt's garden left. No pesticides. And I have plenty of flour, sugar and lard to keep myself well stocked in relatively edible homemade pies."

Dean made that surprised, pleased face again, only this time, maybe because of the whiskey, I blushed. The sirens had calmed down so I peeked out the windows. Lights still flashed from cops trawling the area, but things seemed to be cooling down. "Although that probably won't be needed. We can probably be out of here by morning."

For the first time, Dean intentionally met my eyes. "We?"

Sam looked panicked. "You can't come with us."

"Why?" I asked, realizing what I'd said a little too late to stop from looking like a fool. I decided to just commit. After all, it's not like I was liable to run in to too terribly many vampire hunters around these parts, and I needed to bone up on my skills. 'Poor choice of words for an inner monologue,' I chided myself, turning back to the window to hide my blush.

"What we do is no kind of life. It's dangerous." Dean's voice was deadly serious. I turned to face him.

"Since I found out about vampires I've killed two without any help. Maybe I could be of some use with your little Vampire hunting operation. I'm not a puppy. I'm not asking you to keep me. Just, you know, teach me some sick machete skills." In for a penny, in for a pound. I was definitely committed at this point.

Sam looked bemused and Dean looked angry. He rushed on. "You think this is like some video game? That you can do a few jobs and BOOM, level up? Monsters are REAL, and you only get one life. You ain't coming with us, sweatheart."

"Yeah, Vampires are real. And I probably need to leave here anyways. Like you said, that probably wasn't the whole nest and I'm pretty much a sitting duck."

"It's not just vampires." Sam finally spoke up. "It's all real. Think of every scary story you've ever heard. You start out hunting vampires, and pretty soon a lead has you going after a nest, and it turns out there is a Djinn, or a demon, or a chupacabra."

"Chupa- Jesus…"

"Let me finish. You are still just a kid. You have seen a few vampires and yeah, finding out this crap is real is a bit of a shocker, but you just touched the surface. You could continue to live a normal life, have a family, just, move on." Sam sounded so earnest. It was almost enough to keep me from getting angry. Almost.

"Alright. Are you finished?" He nodded. I continued. "Well, then, here is the deal as I see it. I don't have much family left. The only thing keeping me here now are some old memories and a masochistic streak about a mile wide. Until this last couple of weeks, until this last loss, I was adrift. I was pointless. Now, I see something I can do to help that not everyone can do, because it's obvious that most people don't know about this stuff. You can refuse to take me with you if you want. That's fine. I'll do things the hard way, because I'm stubborn as hell and apparently not very smart." I took the bottle of whiskey out of Dean's hands and took a couple of gulps. "Pie's in the fridge. I'm going to bed, and in the morning, I'm going to do my damnedest to clean out that nest, or die trying, and short of tying me to my bed, there is nothing you could do to stop it." I downed a good portion of the bottle, slamming it on the coffee table before stalking to my bedroom. As I slammed the door, I felt a small thrill of victory when I saw how taken aback the boys in my living room were. They sure as hell weren't expecting THAT.


	3. All By Myself

A/N- Rolling, rolling, rolling…

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><p>I couldn't move my legs. At first I thought it was a dream. I'm no stranger to night terrors, and have experienced the dread of a seeing a woman in black on many occasions. (This is the first time it occured to me that I may actually have been haunted by a real ghost. I chose to shove that to the back of my mind and pretend I was dreaming.) I was sorely mistaken. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and sat up, trying to make sense of what was going on. My legs were bound! As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I bit back a scream when I noticed a figure at the foot of my bed, coming towards me. They didn't have far to come. My house was tiny, my full bed barely fitting in the room.<p>

As the figure's face resolved into that of Dean Winchester, I bit back a gasp. He had gotten in to my delicates and was using my good scarves as bindings. He leaned over me, and placed his mouth close to my ear. My heart was thundering in my chest, my breath panicked, and as much as I wanted to lash out, defend myself, I couldn't. I was too terrified. He placed a hand gently on my shoulder, and I shivered from the skin on skin contact.

"This is why you can't come with us. If you panic instead of acting when facing a shifter, or a demon, or just about anything for that matter, they can kill you. They could kill us. We can't let that happen. We don't want you to get killed. Or anyone else."

Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed like I could feel his lips touching my ear. I realized what he was doing, and I snapped. I brought up free hand and clapped it against his face. Like I said, I'm not really in any sort of fighting shape, so I doubt I hurt him, but I know that I gave him a surprise. His eyes widened and he backed up a bit, putting his knee on the bed. "Here we are saving your ass, and you hit me. That was not nice."

"Yeah, well. It's not nice for you to… Be…" Handsome? On my bed? Tying me up? "A slut. You were trying to seduce me in to compliance."

"And it was working."

"Yeah, until it wasn't. See that. I didn't freeze up. So you can take me with you." I hate to admit it, but I bit my lip a little nervously waiting for a response.

"You reacted late. I've had bug bites that hurt more than that." Dean leaned back over and started to work on my right wrist again. He smelled like leather, soap and testosterone, and I was very angry with the world for putting me in this position. By the time I had my little revelation about my ex, it had already been months since we had had any sort of sexual contact, and here was a really hot guy tying me to my bed, only he was so infuriating and sort of kidnapping me, so I couldn't even enjoy it. I had to take a deep breath to steal myself as I felt his fingers brush my wrists.

"I will make you regret this." I strained against the bonds, and Dean smiled a bit.

"I've done a lot of regrettable things. Tying up a pretty girl isn't one of them, especially if it will keep from doing something stupid." I narrowed my eyes at him. It sounded like a line.

Sam came in to the room and stopped short in the doorway. "What the hell is this, Dean? I thought you were just going to talk her in to staying here."

"Yeah, well, the more I thought about last night's conversation the more I figured she'd said all she would have to say on the matter. So I took her advice."

"And kidnapped her?"

"It's not kidnapping. She's in her own bed. We'll let her out when we are done at the nest."

Sam exhaled sharply out his nose and made a face bitchier than the bitchiest face I can remember having made at his brother. I took some mental notes. THAT face would come in handy someday, I was sure.

"Let's just get this over with." Sam stalked out, and Dean looked over his shoulder and winked at me before leaving the room.

"Hey!" I called out, and he stopped in the doorway but didn't look back.

"I'm guessing they are in the old KD building. It wasn't abandoned until just a couple years ago, it may still have some utilities, and the killings are all around that area in a five mile radius. It's the only abandoned building that would make sense."

Dean finally turned to face me a nodded. "And Dean," I added, "It's literally less than 500 yards from here as the crow flies. Be sure they don't see you coming."

I barely stopped myself from adding 'Let's hope they didn't follow you here,' before they were gone. I was pretty sure that if horror movie rules applied to real life now that monsters weren't just stories, that would totally jinx me, and it... well, itwould be bad, with just my dog here to protect me.

"Ninja!" I called to him, waiting for him to yip excitedly and come running. I didn't even get to take him out. I was going to kill those boys if he crapped on my floor. "Ninja!"

I waited a moment, thinking that they must have fed him, giving him plenty of crap-munition, before calling again. "Ninja!?" There was no response, although my cat did curl up under my arm pit. "Damnit."

I was alone.


	4. 25 minutes to Go

A/N – This is going to be a bit of an odd chapter, because I had to find a way to make it work in the rest of the first person narrative and make sense, when the main character is too busy being tied to her bed to know what was happening.

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><p>I was surprised not even a half an hour later, to hear someone nearly banging my door down. At this point, I was a bit hung over and a little confused as to why Sam and Dean would knock when they both knew very well I was tied up. It wasn't until I heard Ninja's angry bark that I realized something may be terribly wrong. I started to strain against my bonds and struggle when I heard a sound that I found out later was the back door breaking in.<p>

I didn't witness ANY of these events first hand, so I only have Sam and Dean's word to go by, but from what they tell me, they were a couple blocks away when they noticed that Ninja was in the car. Sam said it was Dean's idea to come back so I wasn't completely vulnerable, all trussed up as I was. Dean said that was not his reasoning at all, he just didn't want my dog messing up his leather interior. I didn't care what the reason was, because the dog being brought home is what allowed Sam and Dean to notice the remaining vampires from the nest (well, all but the very oldest) breaking in to my house. It was squicky to think of how easy it was for them to get in, and it made me wish that I had taken some more "preventative measures" regarding my ex.

Anyways, the boys said that they'd killed all but one, and he was tied up on the floor in the kitchen, yelling like a mad man. I was stilled tied up, and glad for the end of the story, because it brought Dean leaning over me to unbind my hands. I have to admit, it brought a thrill. My wrists were raw from struggling, and he rubbed them each a bit before moving to my legs. As he worked, he talked.

"That last vamp is really nuts. He keeps talking about this 'Olivia' chick. 'Don't tell Olivia, please.' 'She'll kill me,' that sort of thing."

I blanched. There was one detail I had escaped providing the guys.

It was my name.

Olivia.

As soon as Dean finished my legs I rushed in to the kitchen, where Sam was guarding their prisoner. As soon as the tied up vamp saw me, his babbling increased in pitch and volume. "Olivia, I swear I came to make sure they didn't kill you. I promise. I am on your side. I didn't break my promise. You are safe. I swear, please don't let them kill me, you know you can trust me!" I held up a hand to silence them.

I looked to Sam to confirm my ex's story. He looked sad as he shook his head. So. He was a cheat _and_ a liar. I should have known that.

"I can trust you? Don't insult my intelligence. You are a douche bag. The deal is off." He started sobbing. It was pathetic and grating and for Christ sakes, if anyone was crying, shouldn't it be me?

"You know this ass hat?" Dean was behind me in the doorway. It was reassuring to feel him behind my shoulder, so close I could smell the soap and leather.

"Yeah. Dean, Sam, this is… WAS my boyfriend. Before he was turned. By a whore. He must have been screwing her behind my back for a while. I walked in on him feeding off some poor girl with a vamp skank. She attacked me, I killed her, but I let him go. He promised he wouldn't kill anyone again. I trusted him, and let him take the girl. I have to assume she's dead, and it's because I couldn't kill him." I took a deep breath. "Forgive me for rambling. Sam, be a dear, and grab my axe, if you would."

I knew that my face was stony. I knew my voice must have been ice cold. I also knew what I had to do, and the fact that the man I trusted the most in the world could cry like a bitch on the floor while I had to stand up, move forward, and be strong really made it hard to think about anything other than causing damage to something. Anything. Sam handed me the axe, and they both backed up a bit as I raised it over my head. My arms were shaking. I couldn't catch my breath. The ghost of the man I loved looked up at me and begged for his un-life. With a roar, I brought the axe down hard and fast…

And buried it in the linoleum, inches in front of his face. "If I kill him, it wouldn't be because he's a vampire. It'd be because he hurt me. I'd say if it's this personal, it counts as murder, monster or not." I exhaled, still shaking, and turned to Dean. "You're right. I'm weak. If you had taken me and I'd seen him…" I shook my head and walked back through the dining room and living room to my bed room, holding on to Ninja so he didn't go investigating what was happening to the man who had been all I had left to live for, not three weeks ago. When I heard the axe come down, I flinched and buried my face in Ninja's side to hide a loud sob.

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><p>Mary Jane, my dear, you are wonderful! I'm so glad you stumbled upon this. I promise that a smutty time will be had by all! I hope the slow burn is good :)<p>

a/n- I fixed the tense problems from Chapter one and revised all four chapters a bit. Nothing I did really changed the story, but I found a couple inconsistencies that needed fixed and cleared up some phrasing.


	5. I will survive

I got the feeling that Sam and Dean had dealt with this sort of thing before. I also got the feeling that they weren't they types of people to hug it out when in emotional turmoil, so I wasn't surprised when neither of them had some kind of nurturing instinct kick in that brought them running to check on me. Maybe they figured I should get used to this type of thing if I was going to be a hunter. Then again, maybe they were just getting rid of the bodies for me. Part of me thought that was sweet. Another part of me was concerned about the implications of entering in to a life that made body disposal an act of kindness.

The thought of my next date being a nice romantic stakeout was disheartening, to say the least. Considering how my last relationship just ended (Painfully, permanently, and messily.) it was damn near miraculous I wasn't crying and snotting all over when Ninja hopped up and left the room. He had to go through a pair of legs to get out. I flushed with embarrassment as I followed the legs up to find them attached to Dean Winchester.

I exhaled to steal myself any impending water works. "I figured Sam would probably be the one to handle the emotional crap." I pulled my feet up and wrapped my arms around my legs, resting my chin on my knees and looking up at Dean as he lingered in the doorway before finally sitting next to me on the bed. Under last traumatic circumstances, this could have been an exciting moment.

` "I didn't think you would be up for a conversation about your feelings with a knock off Dr. Phil." He shrugged. "It seems to me the last thing you probably want to hear is everything is going to be okay."

I snorted. That nail was hit squarely on the head. Things had been so far from okay for so long that the very idea of having to listen to someone utter platitudes would make me scream. "So you got stuck doing emotional first aide. Try and get me all fixed up so I don't tag along?" My weak smile was sardonic.

We sat in silence for a while. Every once in a while Dean would move his hand like he was unsure of what to do with it. It seemed like he was waffling back in forth between sitting on his hands or reaching out to offer me the comfort of human contact. Once again, I wanted to scream.

Finally, the silence and fidgeting got to be too much. I firmly set my hand down on top of his and held it in place on his thigh to keep him from moving it. "You don't have to worry about that, you know. I'm not going to ask to go with your guys again. For one, I'm sober now. And after today, I can see why you wouldn't want me as a third wheel at your monster mash. I'd be a liability. I get it. If you try and let me down easy or rationalize it by telling me how special I am in other ways…" I trailed off. I wasn't sure what I would do.

"You know, that's what I would have said before was happened today." Dean closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. "I would have told you that you were a liability. I DID tell you that, last night. I probably would have hit on you, given you a card with a fake phone number on it, and sent you on your way, telling you how happy you would make some guy some day, or about some higher purpose you have other than hunting." Dean sighed. "I'm not going to do that this time."

"Well. That's good. It wouldn't have worked anyways, especially now that I know your whole plan. The fact that my ex was just killed in my kitchen after trying to kill me wouldn't help your chances of success. Especially since I'm not a freaking Bimbo. But hey, thanks for the forewarning about what an asshole you apparently are." I rolled my eyes. That was getting to be a bad habit around him. "I'm guessing you have a point?"

Dean chuckled, and even I smiled a bit. I wasn't kidding, at least not completely, but I know myself well enough to know that levity is my go to coping mechanism, even if it does make me seem kind of morbid, or macabre.

Dean finally made eye contact. "Okay, here is the deal. I'm- WE aren't taking you with us, but it's not because you don't have skills, or wouldn't probably kick ass as a hunter. Those things can be learned. He cleared his throat before continuing, and I met his eye contact somberly. "It's obvious you know how to keep on, you know, keeping on. You've seen at least some of the crap we deal with and I can tell you know all about loss. That part of hunting can't be learned, and as much as it sucks for you, that's the part that you are a natural at. Hunt if you want. Get married and have 17 kids if you want. Hell, you can join the circus and tame lions if you feel like it. You could probably be good at all those things…. But, Sam and I are not going to drag you in to our crap. The things we hunt, well, it can be downright apocalyptic, and we aren't going to inflict that crap on anyone."

It occurred to me that, in a way, he did exactly what he told me he wasn't going to, except for the hitting on me part. I didn't know if I should be offended and take what he said with a grain of salt, or if he was sincere… Something about him made me want to believe he was genuine, but I wasn't quite sure I had enough innocence left after the last couple of weeks. "So. What you mean to say is, reach for the stars! You can be anything you set your mind to! Just do it far away from you and Sam."

"I wasn't trying to give you the hunter version of an after school special-"

"When bad things happen, I deal using inappropriate humor and pop culture references. But hey, don't feel bad. You don't have to let me down easy. I think I can survive just about anything at this point." Whether I wanted to or not.

"It's surprising what you can survive." Dean's eyes lost focus for a moment before his gaze cleared and held mind again. I decided two things at that moment. Knowing what I knew now, I couldn't stay in my little bubble and pretend there weren't bad things in the world. Most of my family was gone, and it was time to leave the nest. I may as well do something worth wild. Maybe I could save the world. I also decided that wherever Dean went in that moment, he was being sincere.

"Such is life." I smiled sadly.

Dean reached in to his coat pocket with his unoccupied hand and pulled out a business card, handing it to me.

"Agent Lennon?" I raised an eyebrow.

"The name is a fake, but the number isn't. I can't tie you to your bed to keep you from hunting this time. I don't want to say you're stupid," (I would like to pause a moment to acknowledge the fact that I totally can be stupid) "but you seem to lack any sense of self preservation. If you do take up the worst hobby in the world, and you find yourself even a MILLIMETER over your head, you can call me… Call us. I-we will do what we can to help."

I pocketed the card as Sam came to the bedroom door, clearing his throat. "Dean, it's time to go. Cas called-"

Dean stood. "Be careful, Olivia." He smiled, just a quirk of the lips, and left. It wasn't until his hand was gone that I realized his fingers had been wrapped around mine.

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><p>Two days later, my bank account was emptied. My stuff was put in storage. I got behind the wheel of my ex-father in law's car and headed north on 1-29 from Sioux City, towards Sioux Falls. Ninja rode co-pilot, and we headed out on a case. It was our first.<p>

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><p>An - So many views, so few reviews! Suggestions? Comments? Recipes? Jingles...?

I also would like to clarify that this story takes place in the supernatural present.


	6. Motel Time Again

Surprisingly (Especially when you consider that I hadn't had a normal interaction with a male human in nearly 9 months) I didn't even think of calling Dean throughout the first few months that I worked as a hunter. I was also surprised by the sheer amount of hunters there were and the sophisticated network they had. I was a rookie, and didn't have the resources or contacts that the other hunters did, so I found myself inadvertently working alongside different hunters on just about every case of the first few months I hunted. A lot of them ignored me, treating me like a shadow on cases. Most treated me like an intern of sorts, once they realized what I was up to. I spent most of the jobs acting as a gopher. I considered it on the job training.

I learned how to scam credit card companies, research paranormal activity (so that I didn't just get a list of IMDB pages) and where the best midnight food specials were on the road. I learned about Angels, Demons, werewolves, Djinn… I even killed a chupacabra. I learned to fight, shoot- Okay, to be honest, I learned how to hold a gun well enough that anyone who saw me would assume I could shoot. I was still working on the whole hitting a moving target thing. – Anyways, I could paint wards and had learned about different rites of exorcism.

I also learned a HELL of a lot about the Winchester brothers. Those guys were hunter royalty, and everyone either loved them or hated them. Not everyone who loved them was your typical "Good guy" and some of the folks that hated them weren't bad guys at all. When I learned that they had been at the center of more than one apocalypse, I wasn't surprised that they were polarizing in the hunter community.

It almost made me feel strangely proud that they had descended from the heights of the hunter elite to handle a measly little vamp infestation in my home town. To clarify, I didn't feel like they had done it for me or anything… It felt like it did when I went to the Coney Island on Hamilton Blvd. back home and saw a picture of Elvis sitting in the booth I was. I had been celebrity adjacent.

I also learned that if Dean Winchester saved your girly ass from a monster, people tended to assume you guys had screwed. While I did have the honor of experiencing a little light bondage, it wasn't in the sexual nature that everyone had expected. I spend a lot of time blushing when other hunters were around, if they found out I'd "worked" with the Winchesters. Hunters are like women in a sewing circle, so every hunter I worked with found out, whether or not I was the one who told them.

Eventually, I wanted to call Dean. I wanted to call and rip him a new ass hole. The more people reminded me about my dry spell by assuming I got laid when Dean was around, the more angry I got with him for existing. Rationally, I was aware that he really hadn't done anything to me. Well, other than tie me to my bed, kill my ex boyfriend, and introduce me to the idea of monster hunting.

Now that I think of it, I probably should send him a thank you card.

I was musing on whether or not Hallmark made "Thanks for killing my monster ex boyfriend and tying me to my bed cards" when I pulled up to a little flea bag motel just off old 70 between Sarasota and Myakka in Florida. The façade was sickly pink, dingy and chipped Spanish missionary style architecture. I parked around the corner so the desk wouldn't see Ninja. I didn't want to half to pay extra, and I didn't want to sleep in the truck if I was turned away. I headed inside and rented a room.

I was glad to not have to provide a cover story. Beach towns like Sarasota saw a lot of traffic from folks in their twenties heading out on spring break. In fact, I was lucky to get a room at all. The hotel was nearly full of "bro's" and "ho's." I was in the last remaining parking spot, so I had to collect my dog and my things and hoof it to my room.

Thank God all 250 lbs of Ninja can look a lot meaner than he is. The lot and pool area was crawling with drunken frat boys, and none of them wanted to risk tangling with my puppy. I kept my eyes on the ground as I walked, slipping as quickly in to my room as possible, willfully ignoring my surroundings. It all went off without a hitch.

That should have been my first clue that I was in for something big.

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><p>an Thanks for the reviews so far.

Sunshine1984- I am going to take some time today and go through my chapters and read them out loud for auto correct type errors like the ones you mentioned.

MK72- Thanks for the constructive feedback. I mentioned briefly in the first sentence that the protagonist's parents are civilians, but I updated the chapter and elaborated on their "normal-ness."


	7. Should I stay or should I go?

It's funny how normal a day can seem, leading up to an occasion that is life changing. The day I found out about my boyfriend was terribly normal up to that point. Every sudden death in my family occurred on days that seemed otherwise uneventful. Even things that change your life for the better seem to come out of nowhere, on a day like any other.

Checking in to my hotel room, the drive, it had all been so… normal. Well, as normal as things get for someone who finds themselves in my line of work. That's how the universe tricks you into feeling okay before pulling the rug out from under you. The universe is a bitch that way.

As per my new usual routine, I set Ninja up with food and water, changed in to shorts and a tank top, and worked out a bit. I still wasn't exactly a specimen of peak physical performance, but I could hold my own. On a scale of "dead" to "killing all the things" I was a solid "Bruised and bloody, but totally living to tell the tale."

After enough sit ups, pushups, and lunges to break a sweat (The same amount would have made me wish I was dead, a few months ago), I booted up my lap top, so I was ready to dive in to research mode if the need arose, and took Ninja for a run. Ever since I cut down to only smoking here or there in life or death situations, my endurance improved greatly. I can run relatively fast for long enough not to die, in most cases.

Since most of hunting is just not dying, I guess I'm kind of a boss.

I fixed my ponytail so my bangs weren't hanging in my face, secured Ninja's leash and headed out of the hotel parking lot.

Once again, my run was suspiciously uneventful. My Pandora was shuffling through various Irish Folk and classic rocks bands, there was a state park w/ paths to run nearby, and I was super proud to have made it two miles before I had to stop. Ninja was even nice enough to crap right by a garbage can so I didn't have to carry it around w/ me until I found somewhere to dump it.

Seriously, it was so normal, I should have been instantly on edge.

Half way back to the hotel, the weather took a Florida on me. Clouds seemed to move in out of nowhere on the way back, and it sprinkled on me for about 30 seconds before cutting loose in a torrential down pour. My cool down jog turned in to a "rush back to the hotel before you drown because the storm drains are over flowing."

I was a drowned rat by the time I reached the hotel, and my modesty was barely preserved by my freezing, wet clothes. I tried to stay under the awnings on my way around the building, but Ninja had other ideas. He pulled, and his leash slipped out of my wet grasp. He barreled around the corner of the building, and I hurried after him, watching the ground so I could leap over the worst of the puddles. I was soaked, and it was a waste of effort, but we all know by now how great my decision making skills are in stressful situations. I resolved to work on that as I leapt a puddle, slamming in to a warm, solid body.

The wind was knocked out of me by the solid impact, and I felt slightly calloused fingers tighten around my arms to steady me. They were warm against my chilled flesh and the shock of it sent ripples through my muscles and up my back. The grip was firm, and my first instinct was to fight. I struggled to reach the small silver pocket knife hidden in a belt like harness at the small of my back. I looked up to track my foe's movement.

"Son of a bitch…" we both groaned out at the same time. My blue eyes had met a familiar pair of green ones. While Dean sounded frustrated, I sounded breathless. I could have kicked myself, which made me want to kick him.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, it occurred to me that I was being foolish as I stood there, mouth slightly agape as I processed the coincidence. I wasn't even on a job, for crying out loud!

My face flushed a bit, and I hoped Dean would chalk it up to the exertion of chasing Ninja, but part of me knew he was too smart for that. Then again, he couldn't exactly judge me. He was staring too.

"What are you doing here?" Dean's rumbled low in his chest, and I could practically feel it. Shivers coursed down my spine, and a feeling of warmth coursed through my middle. I found it to be infuriating.

"Getting rained on." My voice was still breathless. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears and rain dripped down my face. I couldn't brush it away. Dean still held my arms. I started to shiver. It was only partially due to the cold. I felt pathetic, reacting so poorly to the situation.

"Stop that." Dean's voice was dark, and I hated how thrilling it was.

Before I could clear my head enough to ask Dean what, exactly, he wanted me to stop, Ninja barked, breaking the spell. My upper arms were suddenly exposed again, and I hugged myself slightly to keep warm. 55 and rainy. Welcome to spring time in Florida.

Dean grabbed me by the elbow. This time, it was less the electric shock of kin on skin contact that caught me off guard, and more that Dean started leading me towards a hotel room with Ninja prancing around our feet. The "come with me right this instant, young lady" way he stalked towards a corner room at the back of the hotel made me want to fight his grasp. The firm, gentle grip of his rough hands made me want to melt. If either of us were thinking with our big heads, we would have gone our own ways right then. I was not on a job, and I had no reason to allow myself to be swept up in Winchester Drama.

Dean had trouble getting the room key to work. I suppose I could, or even should, have taken Ninja and left immediately, heading to my own room. I was just so drawn to the Winchesters, one in particular. I shook off these thoughts before the guilt of having bone jumping urges towards the man who probably beheaded my ex could take hold.

When the lock finally gave way, Ninja yipped and rushed in to the room, shaking water off all over everything. Seeing Dean annoyed made me a little happy. What made me less happy however, was the emptiness of the room.

"Uh… Where is Sam?" I don't know what I was having trouble not acting like a teenage girl, but my voice was shaky, and, damn it, breathless again.

"Sit." I couldn't tell why Dean was acting like I had made him mad, but that was all he said to me as we entered the room. I could tell that you wanted to pick your battles with a man like him, especially when he was already pissed to begin with.

I sat on the edge of one of the beds, shivering from the rain and the chill air in the room. Dean handed me a glass of water that he poured out of a flask in his bag. I looked at him questioningly.

"Drink."

"I-"

He cut me off. "Drink." Once again, his dark, firm voice made me quiver like an idiot school girl, and as he sat on a chair across from the bed, I drank. I could see the apprehension melt from his eyes as he watched me finish the water.

I was surprised when he exhaled in relief. "That was holy water, wasn't it?" I asked, handing him the tumbler. He set it next to his own and poured us each a generous portion of Wild Turkey from a bottle under the table. I threw it back like a champ. The burn loosened me up and I handed the tumbler back to Dean. Instead of taking it, he refilled it. I noticed that he did the same to his own glass.

"Can't be too careful," was his only response. He downed another glass. I took a pretty good gulp of my own, but opted not to finish it. One of us needed to have our head on straight.

"Yu thought I was possessed." It wasn't a question.

"It's a little too big a coincidence to run into you again, so far from home." His voice had lost a bit of its rough edge, but he was still gruff. I snorted.

"I haven't been home in months."

"You've been hunting." It wasn't a question.

I shrugged. I didn't need to explain myself to him. That wasn't the response he was looking for, of course. I could see his anger rising a bit towards the surface.

"So, you run off, hunting things that could easily have killed you. You put yourself at risk, and you don't even bother to check in and let me- US, know you are safe?" The barely controlled anger was even less controlled by the time he finished his mini-rant, and now, I am pissed.

"You are mad at me because I made my own choice about what I want to do with my life? That I didn't keep you up to date on the fact that I'm still alive? After YOU left, knowing full well what I intended to do. You are mad that a relative stranger didn't keep in touch? When you made it perfectly clear that I was on my own in this?" I gulped the last of the drink and stood, slamming the tumbler on the table. "Screw you." I started to head towards the door. Dean grabbed my arm above the wrist, stopping me. I tried to ignore the little thrill I felt when his hand closed around my arm. I was trying to be righteously indignant, and him touching me was not helping.

"I told you to call if you needed help." His voice was quiet, ominous.

I sighed, looking Dean in the eyes. "You aren't the only hunters in the world. You know that right? I didn't feel like I needed to bother you. I met people, worked with them, and learned a lot."

Dean still held my arm, but the grip was more gentle now. "Well… you do."

Once again, we lapsed in to silence. It seemed like SOMETHING was supposed to happen here, but neither of us knew what. After a moment, Dean dropped his hand, and I sat shakily on the bed. My teeth were chattering. I'd almost forgotten how cold I was. Dean stood, sliding his coat off. I bit the inside of my cheek. I hated that the first thing I noticed was how his muscles strained against his shirt. He sat next to me on the bed, and I almost closed my eyes, imagining… something that shouldn't happen. Dean slid the coat around my shoulders.

"You know I have dry clothes in my room, right?" Not that I didn't appreciate the gesture, of course. But the proximity of Dean mixed with the overwhelming sense of- well, him – that I felt with his coat around my shoulder's was distracting.

"You should go home."

That was out of left field. I shook my head. "To what, Dean? An empty house? A town where I have more graves to visit then friends? A quiet life with no purpose but to take my dog on walks, feed the cat, and go to a day job where ass holes yell at me all day? That page has turned, Dean."

"So you choose THIS life?"

"It's not a choice. Did YOU choose to do this? How could I ignore the fact that people are being hurt and killed, when I could help them? That's not a choice, Dean, it's a responsibility."

Dean chuckled a bit. "I think I may have said the same thing to Sam once or twice."

"Okay, so if it's not a choice for you, why would it be for me? How are our situations different?"

"Because this was all I've ever done!" Dean's voice was forceful, and I was startled a bit. I didn't think he would hurt me or anything, but man, that volume really caught me off guard.

"You never had a chance to do something else? No other options?" I found that hard to believe.

"I guess I did." He left it at that. He looked so pained, I didn't press him for more information. He deserved his secrets, just as I deserved mine. Besides, sometimes you just didn't want to burden someone else with your baggage.

"Sooo…. You guys are on a job?" I changed the subject. Needless to say, emotional crap made me uncomfortable any more.

Dean reached for the bottle and took a drink, then handed it to me. I took a pull, realizing that I was feeling those drinks as they started to accumulate. I promised myself that I wouldn't drink anymore as I handed the bottle back to Dean and he answered, "Nope. Vacation."

I laughed. "So is there some kind of monster hunter club med in Myakka, Florida?"

Shaking his head, Dean took another drink, once again handing the bottle to me. Out of habit, I broke my promise to myself, taking another deep pull off of the bottle. This time, I VOWED not to drink anymore while I was alone with Dean.

"Are you on a job?"

I shook my head in response. "I just finished a job down south. I came through because my aunt used to live near here. I just stopped for old time sakes."

Dean took another drink and handed me the bottle. I made another bad decision. I took it, and I drank from it, self preservation be damned.

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><p>an - sunshine1984 I'm glad there was some improvement and I'm SUPER glad to hear you like my style.

Thanks for the follows, and I promise things are REALLY going to be picking up here soon!


	8. Golden Slumbers

I was so glad we didn't get too drunk. I was also glad Sam showed up with food for him and Dean. I was glad for the excuse to leave, and the chance to escape whatever was happening in that hotel room. I had learned far too much while drinking with Dean. I learned that buzzed Dean only came in two flavors, Mad with a hint of broody and goofy with a heavy dose of frisky. I already knew that the only results of me being buzzed where icky, snotty tears mixed with a hit of belligerence or flirty over friendliness, so the night could have ended poorly without the interruption. As we loosened up, the weird tension between us took a back burner, and we actually had some fun. Dean learned I was ticklish, I learned that he's a better wrestler than I am. The awkward distance between us had begun to melt away, filled instead with idle touches.

As long as it had been since I'd enjoyed male company in a romantic sense, in the back of my mind I knew I wouldn't want it to be because we were drunk. When Sam arrived, I walked with Ninja back to my room. I realized I was still wearing Dean's leather jacket. I took advantage of the moment alone to indulge in the smell of him. It was leather and whiskey, and oh so distinctly male. I tossed it on the arm chair by the door and hurried to the shower to wash the smell of him off of me before it drove me nuts. By the time I felt like I had washed his influence from my body, I was so exhausted it was all I could do to slip into a pair of panties and a t shirt before sliding into bed.

I don't know how long I slept, but I was woken at least a couple of hours later by a clicking, scratching noise and Ninja whining. I prayed he held himself back from the assailant long enough for me to get a shot off as I reached for the gun on the bedside table, turning off the safety and cocking it as the door opened and shut quietly.

Ninja was oddly silent. I started to panic, all of my strength going in to controlling my breathing so the intruder wouldn't realize I was aware of them. As I felt the bed dip, I rolled with the weight, my breath shaky as I pressed my gun against the stranger's jaw. My eyes widened.

"Dean?" I lowered the gun, sliding on the safety. "Are you drunk?" I hissed.

"Nope." He lied.

He was intoxicated and intoxicating. He smelled like a heady mix of soap and whisky. I could feel the warmth of him overwhelming me as an arm snaked around me, his hand sliding up my shirt to rest on my ribs, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake. I was very aware of how little I was wearing.

I rolled to face him. "What are you doing here?" I was painfully aware of his hand, now resting on my stomach.

"I was bored. Sammy's asleep."

"So you walked to my room, broke in, and got me out of bed?"

"I didn't get you out of bed. I got IN your bed."

"No shit, Sherlock…" I muttered under my breath.

"Hmmm?" Dean appeared to be falling asleep.

"Nothing." I tried to get up. He tightened his hold on me, pulling me closer. "Hmmm…." I felt the satisfied noise rumble through me, and a pleasant chill crept up my spine.

"Dean, I don't know what you are trying to do here, but I'm not some hit it and quit it-"

I couldn't continue. Dean was kissing me softly, his lips warm and velvety against mine. He didn't push, or explore. I froze in shock before my body betrayed me, tentatively returning the kiss. "You talk too much." I felt the heat of the kiss, chaste though it was, echoing all the way in to my core. As I lay there, still rigid with shock, he began to run his fingers through my hair, then up and down my back. I had been so scared. Scared of enjoying it, scared he'd want more, and scared of what came next. Despite all this, it felt so nice to be close to someone, especially him. Slowly I relaxed, falling asleep feeling sheltered, protected from the pain of my past for one glorious night.

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><p>Thanks for the follows and reviews! Things are rolling along... I can't wait to post more!<p> 


	9. Trouble

I wasn't surprised to wake up alone. I had heard a lot about Dean Winchester over the last few months, and while him sneaking into a girl's hotel room just to snuggle didn't fit his pattern, him not being there when she woke up was well within his MO.

Of course, not being surprised is not the same as not being hurt. I knew he was a bad Idea. I knew I should have walked away when I ran into him. That man had trouble written all over him. I was kicking myself as I took off my night shirt and dug through my suit case, looking for some clean workout clothes. I was going to go for a run with Ninja, clear my head.

I caught sight of myself in the mirror on the wall. I sighed. I barely recognized the girl in the mirror. Sure, my eyes were still blue, but they were harder than they were even a couple of years ago. My hair was still long, dark blonde, but it hung straight down my back. My lifestyle didn't lend much time to styling. My skin was still mine, but it was scared in new paced. My curves were still there, but my muscles were more firm. I bit my lip, fingering the scar that was visible just above the white cotton of my panties. It was the only scared I had earned that brought happy memories. I was lost in my own mind, thinking of those times as my eyes traced my reflection upwards. My eyes widened as they met green ones in the mirror. Dean's gaze was hungry as he stood in the doorway, and I flushed, frozen.

Once again, Ninja saved my ass, barking. Dean averted his eyes, although I don't know what. At that point he'd seen pretty much most of me. I snatched my towel off the chair I'd hung it on, covering myself as best as I could. Dean cleared his throat. "I brought coffee." His voice was hoarse as he set a Styrofoam cup on the table. "I figured you might be feeling rough, and we have to get on the road pretty early."

"I stopped drinking way before you did. I feel fine. But thanks." I was flustered, but I reached for the cup and took a sip. "Wait… We?"

"Yeah, we. As in, we need to get to Kansas by tonight if we are going to get to the job that Sam just stumbled on by tomorrow night. It's going to be a long drive."

I was confused and exasperated. "That wasn't actually an answer."

"You didn't actually ask a question." Dean's eyes were mischievous as he continued. "I hope you can get that old truck up over 40."

"First off, it has a 5.0 liter v8, thank you very much." I took a deep breath. "Hold on, what makes you think I'm just going to follow after you when-"

Dean got serious very quickly. "This isn't a discussion. You want to hunt, fine. But damned if I'm not going to make sure you do it right." Dean's eyes held mine firmly for a moment before he shut the door, leaving me alone with Ninja. I scrambled around, getting dressed as quickly as I could, rushing out of the room after Dean, but he was gone. So was my truck. I checked the room and sure enough, my keys were gone… and so was my self control.

I leashed Ninja and stormed to the Winchester's room. I pretended the door was Dean and pounded on it until I got an answer.

"What's going on?" Sam looked concerned, then confused as I pushed into the room. I was really lucky Sam was a gentleman. I was being pretty rude, and he could have thrown be moodily into the parking lot at that point and, looking back on it, I wouldn't have blamed him.

"Where the hell is Dean?" I was just a step below shrill.

Sam sighed. "Look, whatever he said, he means well-"

"Said my ass! He stole my truck!"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Well, of all the things my brother does to piss off women, that was not the one I expected."

"He doesn't make a habit of grand theft auto?" I crossed my arms, glaring at Sam.

"No, he's done that before. I just-"

Dean strode in, looking smug. "There you are." He smiled at me. "Did you know your gas gauge was broken?" He was so nonchalant sounding… I just… Freaked. I walked up to him, took a swing- and felt him catch my wrist. "You need to work on that hook. I can see it coming a mile away."

"Dick." I muttered under my breath, wrenching my hand away.

"That's not nice."

"I take it she's not coming?" Sam looked amused.

"Yes, she is."

"Uh, probably not."

Sam sighed. "Oookay. I'm going to go load the car."

I was alone again with Dean. Feeling his eyes on me stoked my anger. "What do you want?" I didn't have the energy to yell.

"I want to go to Minnesota and work this job."

"And that involves me?"

Dean took a step towards me. "I want you to come with us. Okay?"

I was baffled. The last time I saw Dean, he was adamant about staying away from me. He was so confusing, so infuriating. And dammit, he was enflaming too. I rolled my eyes. "I don't get you. What's changed? You couldn't get away from me fast enough when we first met. If you feel bad about last night-"

"I don't."

I bit my lip, taking a deep breath. I didn't want to address last night if I didn't have to, and if I went with them it would be the big old elephant in the room. Of course, Dean had my keys, and it wasn't like I could wrestle them away from him. I found myself in another situation that felt inescapable, save for making a very bad decision. "Okay, fine. So, what, is it like, opposite day?"

Dean smiled. "Sure. Let's call it that."


	10. Passenger Side

We all took turns driving. Well, I wasn't allowed to drive "baby" at all, and Ninja wasn't allowed to ride in her, so by taking turns, I mean that every once in a while, Sam or Dean would drive my truck so I could have a break. Sometimes one of them rode with me, but it was awkward. I wasn't used to company, let alone Dean Winchester's company.

When Sam was in the car, we chatted amicably. It was mostly small talk, but we did talk shop a bit. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. Sometimes the conversation would head in a decidedly "Deanish" direction, and I had to resist the urge to pry. Or blush. Or scream. Of course, that didn't stop Sam from offering up little tid bits. Sometimes I felt like he was alluding to something, and I just wasn't quite getting the hint.

"You and Dean-"

"No." I cut him off. I didn't know what he was going to ask, but the idea of "Me and Dean" just reminded me of something that could never be. I'd rather have avoided it completely.

Sam chuckled. "Okay. Well, I think it will be nice to have a new face around. We haven't had anyone at the bunker since-" He trailed off, clearing his throat. "It's been a while."

I don't know what it was about them, but Sam and Dean always seemed to be hiding sadness, just below the display of bravado. I knew how they felt.

We pulled in to a rest area 20 miles outside of Lebanon in the wee hours of the morning. It was supposed to be a 24 hour drive, but between Dean's break neck pace and the 5.0 liter v8 engine in my truck that I was, I'll admit, a little smug about, we were about 5 hours ahead of schedule. I set the truck keys on the counter as I paid, stifling a yawn. When I looked up, dean was behind the wheel of the truck, scanning radio stations. I sighed, snugging my sweater around myself. The sneaky bastard had filched my truck keys, and now I was going to have to have all sorts of self control and dignity in an awkward situation while sleep deprived. Apparently I sucked at that in the best of circumstances. Balls.

I deliberately took my time letting Ninja out to stretch his legs and do his business. When I hauled myself up into the truck, Dean smiled at me. It caught me off guard, and it was all I could do to breath, let alone remember my resolution about self control and dignity and form a coherent thought. It made me mad, although more at myself. I wanted to say something witty, or even just not act like an idiot. I guess my expectations were just too high.

"What?" I snapped at him. It had only been a second, but it felt like time had stopped before I was able to collect myself. Dean just raised an eyebrow and shook his head, smirking. He may have even chuckled, but I was focused on pretending that I wasn't paying attention to him, so I missed it. I sat cross legged on the seat, idly scratching Ninja on the head while he stretched out in the back of my crew cab. Instead of getting back on the interstate, we wove through the back woods roads into the boonies.

After the silence stretched on for, what I felt, was an uncomfortable amount of time, I couldn't take it anymore. I felt like I was suffocating from all of the... whatever... that had been building up between us over the last 48 hours. I caved, and broke the silence. "My family and I used to stay at a fishing resort in Minnesota. There were always a ton of scary stories we'd tell each other to pass the time." I sighed. "I suppose it would be stupid to be surprised if I found out they were all true. You ever hunt the hook man?" I laughed nervously.

"Yeah. He was a dick."

"Shit."

The silence drew on for a few moments. "Most scary stories are meant to warn teenage girls away from being slutty nuisances." I finally spoke again.

Dean barked a laugh. "Did you know many slutty nuisances?"

"You could say that." I blushed. When I was a teenager, before the real world reared up and bit me in the ass, I suffered from a disease of the mind known only as "Used to be Fat, Still has Low Self Esteem." I may have kissed one too many boys growing up. In the small town where I went to high school, I may have had a big ol' A embroidered on my cheer leading uniform. (I did, actually, but only because I'm from Akron. Not the one in Ohio, either.)

The silence wasn't AS uncomfortable this time, and I dozed off.

"We're here..." I felt the deep voice more than heard it as it rumbled through my body, strong arms wrapped around me. I blinked my eyes blearily. I felt Dean set me on my feet by my truck. I couldn't have been out more than 5 minutes, but I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. Driving for 18 hours would do that to you.

We were in a really nice garage, full of REALLY nice cars. I let myself enjoy the view as Dean and Sam led Ninja and I into the bunker. When we got to the main hall, I was a little surprised. "You're catching flies." Dean's smirk made me want to punch him. Or kiss him. Or run.

I snapped my mouth shut and started to wander. When Dean said "Bat Cave" I guess I didn't have my metaphorical thinking cap on, because the bunker was WAY nicer than I expected. At the very least I figured it would be a man cave that smelled like a locker room with naked ladies on the wall. This place was downright elegant!

Sam and Dean were discussing the case, and I was just too tired to have a meaningful contribution to the conversation, so Ninja and I wandered, exploring. In addition to the marble, cherry wood, and all around richness of the place, it happened to be a nerd's wet dream. I'd managed to find a library of the occult not too far off the main room, and settled in for a good read. Naturally, my body didn't agree with my brain. I don't remember a thing on those pages. I do remember being surprised at how comfortable the tiny little couch in the corner was...


	11. Runaway

A/N – Thanks for the reviews! We are literally only one chapter away from earning our "m" rating!

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><p>I woke up on the most comfortable mattress I had ever slept on. The alarm clock glowed blue, and I took in my surroundings by the dim light. The room was not bare, but it was not utilitarian. I took a deep breath. The pillow smelled like whiskey, soap, and testosterone. Dean had given me his bed.<p>

I suppose I should have been happy, or at the very least flattered, that he'd forgone sleeping in his own bed for my sake. It's too bad my emotions are stupid. Instead of feeling touched, I felt guilty. I laid there for a while, arguing with myself. On the one hand, I knew it wasn't healthy to still feel like I had to be faithful to my ex. He was a dick, and our break up couldn't get much more permanent than "Beheaded." It wasn't like his own loyalty at the end should have earned him any further affection from me. Not to mention the fact that Dean was a known womanizer. It would be stupid for me to invest myself in him emotionally. But, dammit, it had been so long since I had gotten laid, and he was so damned good looking. He was an itch, just under my skin, and if I didn't do something about it soon, I was going to go nuts. If I DID do something about it, I would go nuts. I had to get him out of my system, and soon.

I threw back the covers. I needed to think. I really needed a drink. When I got up, I realized I wasn't in my clothes, but a pair of boxers and an oversized Zeppelin t-shirt. I groaned. Yup, something definitely had to be done.

I was on a mission. I left his room, and got thoroughly lost trying to find the common area of the bunker. I was thankful for the solitude the late hour brought, even if it meant spending the rest of the night completely turned around.

Finally, I stumbled into a kitchen by accident. I cursed. There was Dean, leaned back, stretched out, and dozing on a chair, looking like sex on two legs. There should have been a law against filling out one's clothes so well. It was indecent. I stopped in my tracks, torn between sneaking off with the bottle of Wild Turkey sitting on the table and just turning around and leaving, wandering around until I found his room.

I made my decision. I turned slowly, and as silently as I could, took a step towards the door. The tell tale click of a gun being cocked stopped me in my tracks.

"You shouldn't sneak up on a hunter." His voice made me shiver.

"You should take your own advice." I sighed. So much for escape. I turned to face him, my arms crossed over my chest.

"Touché." He stood and stretched, his muscles straining against the confines of his band shirt. I had to stifle a groan. "I dig the new look." He smirked.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of a stainless steel stock pot and grimaced. I'd like to say I had achieved the "sex hair" look, but really it looked like I stuck my finger in a light socket while standing in a wind tunnel. I slumped in a chair by the table. I was surprised to see that the bottle wasn't opened.

"Not thirsty?" I was fidgeting under his gaze.

"Early start. Wouldn't want to drink and drive my baby."

I nodded, and we lapsed into silence. I could feel Dean staring at me as he sat back down. It felt like an electric current.

"You should take a picture. It lasts longer."

"You should stop talking like a fifth grader."

Him and his stupid smirk were so infuriating!

"Dean…" I trailed off as our eyes met. The look in his eyes put me on edge. I'd seen that look before, on a werewolf before they'd gone for my heart. I gathered my courage. "Whatever this is…" I wished he would stop looking at me like that. "What I mean…" I sighed. "It just can't happen."

I really didn't like the look in his eyes. He looked conflicted, hungry, and concerned.

"I mean… It's been nearly a year since I've-"Damn him. "I'm screwed up, and you, well, I've heard about how you are with girls and-"

"You talk too much." Dean and that damn smirk interrupted me. I wanted to kick myself. Why was I sitting here, rambling on about how we couldn't hook up, with a guy who may not have even been interested in me? For crying out loud, he probably only brought me along out of some weird sense of chivalrous duty. Of course, I knew the answer to my own silent question. It's because I've always been an idiot, that's why.

"So I've been told." I was red from my head to my toes. I had to escape, and not just the room. I had to escape, in general. I'd managed to hunt for months without seeing Dean. I could hit the road, get off the radar-

"This life doesn't leave a lot of room fo personal crap. If you wanted to leave, no one would blame you. Hell, Sam and I almost called it quits before. Probably would have, if evil crap didn't keep trying to kill us." Wow. He sure as hell didn't bother with subtly. "You could start over. Find a small town, finish school, get a teaching gig -" My mind reeled. How the hell did he know about THAT? "Marry the small town sheriff, have a gaggle of normal little kids-"

I snorted. Dean had obviously done his research on me. I'd been in school to be a teacher, before my life went to hell. What he didn't get, was that it had taken a turn for the crappy long before I met my first boogie man. "I lost my chance for that way before hunting came in to the picture. If you want me to go, I will, but whatever you think you know about me, you don't know the half of it."

Dean's face darkened. "I know all of it. Sam's really good with a search engine."

My face blanched. I was not prepared to confront that part of my life, especially not with him. Hunting was a way for me to escape, to run from the pity, the awkward radio silence from friends. I didn't want to be surrounded by people so scared that their happiness would hurt me that they cut me out. Especially when they really just wanted to pretend that things like what had happened to me, to my family, weren't real. I couldn't blame them. I wanted to pretend too, and pretending was a lot easier when you didn't have to drive by places that reminded you that someone wasn't coming home.

And here it was, staring me in the face. I averted my eyes. If I looked at Dean and saw pity, I think it would have killed me. Maybe he didn't say anything out right, but knowing that he knew- it was like someone had found that barely healed scar ripped open the wound.

"Why would you do that? You ran a background check on me?" I would do anything to avoid talking about what happened. I didn't want Dean to see the pain, so I reacted with anger. "Did you satisfy your curiosity?"

I made the mistake of looking at Dean. He looked regretful, sad, and I swore I saw it… Pity. Crap. He made to move towards me.

"No." I cut him off. "I don't want your pity, Dean Winchester. If I wanted pity, I'd be at home right now, sitting in an empty house with a basement full of their things, waiting for God to finally tell me why."

I stood. Dean's eyes were burning, but I couldn't figure out why. Was he angry? Did I hurt him? Whatever it was, it fueled my own feelings. I was going to leave, and I'd rather his memories of me fill him with anger than pity. Maybe that made me selfish, but so be it. "Do you really want to know why I decided to hunt, Dean? Because when my mom looks at me, she can barely keep from crying. Maybe that makes me a coward, and maybe I'm stupid, and reckless, and I'll probably get myself killed. But at least then, it would mean something. I'd rather die saving someone than waste away waiting for answers that I'm not going to get." He was still staring at me. I met his gaze, and I couldn't continue. I needed to leave. Now. I had to go before I lost my resolve. If I let him keep looking at me like that, I knew I'd break down, give in. If he reached out to me, even out of pity… Well, I just couldn't let that happen.

"It's fine, Dean. Knowing that you know… Well, at least I know why you brought me here." He started to speak, but I cut him off. "I'm not some kicked dog for you to adopt. I can't be that." I was on a roll, and I couldn't let him change my mind. When he tried to respond, I cut him off again. "Goodbye, Dean."

I turned, and I walked away.


	12. Crash

A/n - Let the smut begin! If you don't like smut, you could probably skip this chapter and still follow the story, just having knowledge that the smut occurred.

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><p>I was not gentle with my things as I dug clothes out of my duffle. I'd found it in the main hall. I'd stomped back to Dean's room, slamming every door I walked through. If I didn't keep fanning the flames of my anger, I was going to break down. I tore off Dean's clothes and dressed in a hurry. I was tying my hair up in a messy bun when the door opened. I stiffened, turning to face Dean in the doorway. It was hard, letting myself have a last look at him, but I had been doing what I had to do for long enough to suck it up.<p>

We stared at each other. I couldn't speak, because I knew if I did my voice would tremble, and I would melt into a puddle of tears and snot. I wrapped my arms around myself. I didn't know what to do, and I sure as hell didn't know what to say.

Dean moved towards me. His stride was purposeful, his eyes stormy. I was frozen in place. His hand came up, caressing my cheek. He tilted my head back. Before I could pull away, before I could even decide if I wanted to, he had me enveloped in his arms. His lips met mine, and I lost myself for a moment. I was so shocked at first, I didn't respond. As he held me, and I felt his lips on mine, some of my tension drained away. I realized that after everything, it was stupid to deny myself. Maybe Dean and I were only here because he felt bad for me. Maybe he was kind of a man whore. So what? I wanted him, and in that moment I decided that, for once in my life, I was going to get exactly what I wanted.

When Dean tried to pull away, I made a noise in protest, akin to a growl.

I was still mad for the invasion of privacy. I was about to ensure that he made it up to me.

I pulled him to me, deepening our kiss. His hands began to explore my body, over my clothes. I regretted getting dressed.

I have never been one to take the lead, physically. I imagine I was clumsy, but I didn't care. I was desperate to feel him. ALL of him. I couldn't stand the fact that there were so many things between us, especially clothes. I pawed at his shirt, breaking our kiss long enough for him to pull it over his head. I couldn't help but moan softly as I took in the sight of his perfectly formed upper body.

"Are you sure-" He must have taken it as a sign of hesitation.

"You talk too much." I nearly ripped my shirt to get it off. It was Dean's turn to growl, and as he looked at me, standing in my black bra and jeans, I felt a thrill. Even my ex had never looked at me with so much hunger.

We collided. Maybe it was only sex, but in that moment, we were desperate for one another. Dean took over. He pillaged my mouth, lifting me off the ground like I was made of air. I wrapped my legs around him, and he clawed at my bra, his chest rumbling in frustration as he finally ripped it off. He kissed down my neck, nibbling and biting along my collar bone. We fell on to the bed, scrambling to remove the rest of our clothes.

It felt like forever, but finally, there was nothing between us. God, he was breathtaking.

Dean pushed me down into the bed, his body commanding me until I was laying flush with his covers. He bent down, and when his mouth closed around my nipple, I quivered in pleasure. He teased me, kissing and caressing the rosy nubs until they were hard peaks.

I writhed beneath his ministrations. My body begged him for more when I couldn't speak any more. Slowly his kisses moved down my body, leaving tingly echoes in their wake. He kissed the scar just below my stomach and I closed my eyes as he drew my legs apart.

When I felt his lips close around my button, I felt the sensation move through my body. I moaned his name. It seemed to enflame him, his tongue moving with more intensity, exploring me further. I ran my fingers through his hair. I didn't want him to stop, but I wanted so much more.

He placed a finger inside me, moving it in time with his mouth. I could feel a familiar pressure building inside of me. Dean seemed to know just how to make me feel like a woman. He brought me to my peak, and drew me back again. He controlled every feeling. It was obvious I was not going to come until HE decided it was time. I would have sold my soul for an orgasm.

"Dean…" I couldn't manage more than that, but I used his name like it was a plea. Finally, he allowed me to follow the waves of pleasure over the edge… It was like an explosion in my core, washing over every inch of my body. He stayed there with me, kissing and softly running his tongue along the most intimate part of me, milking every drop of pleasure out of me, stopping just before it became too much.

We were both panting as moved up the bed, an unspoken question in his eyes. I had yet to regain control of the part of my brain that allowed for verbal communication, so I just nodded emphatically, grasping his arms as he hovered over me. I could feel him, even before he entered me. Whatever magic he had worked down there, I could feel the air move, tingling as he poised himself at my entrance.

Dean wasn't subtle in much of anything, and he wasn't about to start now. He entered me in one long, swift thrust. I damned near came again. I cried out, unprepared for the size of him as he filled me. I arched my back. No matter how deep he went, it didn't feel like enough. He pulled out of me, and I nearly cried from the sense of loss I felt. I clung to him, but his eyes had a mischievous gleam as I tried to pull him to me. He shook his head, holding my hands above my head, pressed down on the bed under one of his own.

I whimpered. I begged. He teased. He remained just outside of me as he kissed my breasts and neck, nipping me hard enough to leave a mark on my collar bone. As him mouth claimed mine hungrily, he finally thrust back in to me with so much force that the bed shook. He moved within me, and I lost control. There was nothing for me but the feel of his body on mine. I felt him in every inch of me as our bodies pressed together, slick with sex and sweat.

It was hard, fast, and perfect. I felt carnal. It had taken over me, and it didn't matter anymore what it meant. I only cared that it felt damned good.

I wanted more. I wanted to grab Dean and hold him deep inside me. I wrapped my legs around him. He groaned as I drew him in as deep as he would go, my movements becoming fevered as I rocketed towards another climax. His fingers tangled in my hair, and he released my hands to explore my body. We didn't make love. We fucked. There was no other word for it.

Dean must have felt how close I was. He cupped my chin with his hand, holding my head in place. "Look at me." He growled his voice husky. His gaze held mine, and all I was aware of were his eyes, and the feeling of him moving in me. He was pushing me forcefully towards orgasm. It wasn't like the first one. This wasn't meant to be savored, it was meant to be taken.

It hit me like an atomic bomb. I cried out. I didn't care if I was loud. I didn't care who heard me. I cried out to Dean, I cried out to God, I may have spoken in tongues, as my orgasm destroyed me, rebuilding me piece by pleasurable piece.

Dean didn't slow down. He didn't break eye contact, and he didn't let me go as I flew, seeing spots as he filled me. We may as well have been on the moon, for all I cared as I begged Dean for more. He was telling me how sexy I was, how strong I was, how beautiful. I felt the words vibrate through me, and I came again, clenching around him, my body clinging to him with a mind of its own. At the peak of my release, his fingers clenched in my hair. His body tensed, and he thrust in to me. With the force of our anger, frustration, and desperation, he came.

We didn't move. We didn't disengage. He was still inside me as he bent down, kissing my lips and the mark on my collar bone. Every time he touched me, it felt like a localized, mini orgasm.

My hair had fallen free, and he ran his fingers trough it as he held me to him. I allowed myself the luxury of pretending for a moment that we could stay this way forever, that it had been more than just pity sex or an angry fuck.

I expected him to get up. I thought he would get up and get dressed, and leave me to my packing. Instead, he wrapped both arms around me, holding me tight against his chest as he rolled to his back. I breathed in the smell of him. Sex smelled good on him. I kissed his chest.

"Thank you." I whispered. Maybe it was just pity sex, but I felt as if all the tension had left my body.

He pulled back a bit and looked me in the eyes. His face was confused. "For what?"

"For fucking me like I could handle it." No point mincing words, now.

He laughed quietly, pulling me closed. "You can definitely take it. Potty Mouth."

I closed my eyes. Dean was being so sweet. It made it easy to pretend that I could take it, that I didn't still feel the need to run.


	13. Angel of the Morning

I had wanted to sneak out while Dean was asleep, load up the truck, grab my dog and leave. When woke up, my decision was that much easier. Dean had already cut and run. So much for my pride. He'd beaten me to it. I dressed quickly and threw my crap in my duffle, carrying my boots so I could move more stealthily. I could hear movement from the kitchen, and my whole body was tense as Ninja and I slunk by.

We made it to the garage without incident, and I threw my duffle into the bed. Dean had left my keys on the seat, so I didn't have to waste time searching for them. I'd half expected him to hold them hostage. The fact that he didn't was confirmation, in my mind, that last night had just be, like, a thing. You know, rather than a more serious thing, I guess?

I had to adjust the seat and mirrors, and I took a moment to bid silent farewell to the guys, so I felt pressed for time when I turned the truck over. And over. And over. Damn thing wouldn't catch. I pumped the case a bit and tried again. More turning, no starting. I felt like karma was making up for last night. She's a bitch like that.

I knew that I wouldn't be able to fix whatever was wrong, but I popped the hood anyways, on the off chance that it was something simple. I braced myself for the worst and peered under the hood.

"Cock sucking mother fu-"

"Looking for this?" Dean and his God Damned Smirk leaned against the truck, holding my distributer cap.

"Son of a bitch." I leaned against the front bumper. He'd caught me off guard, and I damned near soiled myself.

"I hope you weren't running off without saying good bye. It would make me feel cheap."

I huffed a bit at his sarcastic tone. It was a joke, but the tone didn't reach his eyes. I couldn't think of a good excuse. "Just, uh… Crap, yeah, I was leaving. I'm suffering from a case of temporary hypocrisy." He cocked his head to the side, bemused. "Never mind. I was leaving. You're right. It's not like I'm your prisoner."

Dean sighed. "Listen, I shouldn't have dug in to your crap. God knows I've got my own demons to hide. I should have respected your privacy. You can leave. If you want."

"And my distributer cap?"

"I'll put it back on for you. If you give me- us- your number so we can make sure you're still alive, and let us know where you're at." He was asking for my number. That is not what I expected… But some part of me whispered that it was just out of some sense of obligation about last night, and what happened months ago, not any real desire to be in contact with me. My pulse fluttered as I looked at his stupid, smug face. "And, you know," he leaned closer, "if you need help-"

I cut him off. "I don't need help Dean, with hunting or my personal life. I'm not a talker, kay?"

His smirk became suggestive. "We could not talk, too. That was fun."

"You have to stop, Dean." I pulled away. I moved around Dean and let Ninja out of the truck. "Last night was fun. But- I don't just- I'm not… I don't just have 'fun.' I.. umm.." I was struggling, that's what I was. "Okay, so it's like, there's this really cool car, and everyone wants to… umm… Have it. In their garage. And you, uh, travel? A lot. So you use, you know, garages, in different places you go. But, umm, when a car parks in my garage, I get attached. To the car. So I don't like to put cars in my garage if I can't, you know, buy them? " Jesus. I squeezed my eyes shut, tipped my head back, and prayed God to kill me.

I took a deep breath, and opened my eyes. "So your garage is your…" He motioned towards my lady parts. I grimaced, turning a bright shade of red as I nodded. "And the car would be my…"

"Jesus, Dean, yes." I was clenching my fists.

"So… "His eyes were mischievous. "How did you like the ride?"

"Seriously?" I rolled my eyes. Dean chuckled for a moment before we lapsed in to another one of our strained silences.

"Olivia, I-"

"Save it Dean. I know how this works. You're kind of a famous man whore in hunting circles. I don't have any delusions about what last night meant. It was a great lay, and that was it. I wanted to get out of here before you tried to let me down easy. I failed there, didn't I?" I grabbed my duffle and rushed from the garage, my face burning red. Something crashed in the garage behind me. A tool box was upended on the floor, and Dean was stomping back and forth between my truck and the pile of tools as he grabbed what he needed.

I was reviewing the case notes with Sam when Dean made it in from the garage. "Jeeze, Dean. What happened to you?" Sam's eye brows were raised. Dean was greasy, wiping oil from his fingers with an old rag.

"Olivia was in a hurry to leave. I cleaned her distributer cap and changed her oil." Dean's gaze was stormy. I figured I must have struck a nerve, but I was just calling a spade a spade.

"I take it you're not coming to Minnesota?" Sam was looking back and forth between Dean and I. He didn't look too surprised.

I reviewed the map Sam had set up, marked with points where the attack occurred. "This is Lake Osakis, right?" Sam nodded. "Then I'm definitely coming." I pointed to the spot on the map. "This is the only resort on the map that hasn't had an attack. It's Idlewilde Resort. My best friend's mom and dad own the place." I glanced over at Dean. His jaw was set. "If my friend is in danger, I have to help her." I pulled out my smart phone and started dialing. "I'll get us a cabin."


	14. Honesty

We got out of the bunker around seven. It was a nine or ten hour drive. Knowing Dean, we'd be there before lunch. I was staring out the window of the Impala, watching familiar scenery pass by. We'd just passed the Sioux City exit of 1-29. I was counting the minutes until we switched shifts and I could take over driving my truck and get away from Dean. The familiar land marks and the uncomfortable silence made me sigh, and I closed my eyes. Dean cleared his throat, and I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.

"You okay?"

"I'm functional." I didn't want to deal with Dean and his guilty conscience, or his sympathy, or his pity. "A-okay. Peachy. Spiffy. Swell." I was also pouting, but I chose to ignore that.

"Yeah. You sure look fine."

I exhaled a gust of breath, trying to release some frustration before I spoke. "I don't want to talk. I'm fine. I've made it this far." I didn't understand the situation I was in. When I'd first met Dean, he beat feat to get away from me. He wanted me around when we met next, but he'd already gotten laid. I couldn't figure out what his angle was. I knew Dean wasn't a bad guy. I figured he was being nice because he was a nice person. But I knew myself. I knew that I would eventually fall and get hurt, because I knew that last night was all we would ever have. I should have run away.

"I think you're a bad liar."

"I think you have a Lancelot complex. You just have to feel like you're saving everyone. I don't need your help, Ben Kenobi. I've got this." Dean muttered something about Han Solo. "I swear to God, if you just compared yourself to Han Solo I'll-"

"You'll secretly agree. Stop being difficult."

My eyes widened. Difficult? "Yeah, well… You're insufferable."

"Reckless."

"Immature." I fired back. The air did need cleared, I just didn't think it would happen right then. At least it was private.

"Judgemental."

"Egotist."

"Ice Queen."

"Womanizer!" I was one more word away from flipping Dean off and hitching a ride in the back of my own truck the rest of the way.

Dean threw on his blinker and wrenched the wheel, squealing to a stop in an undeveloped rest area. "YOU were the one sneaking out this morning." I bit my lip. He was right about that. "What is your problem!?"

Well. That was straightforward. "Well, as your research probably indicated, I just have a shit ton. Where do you want me to start?" I was being snarky. I knew it was immature, and I knew I had been the pot calling the kettle black. I didn't care. "Let's see… I'm emotionally damaged control freak who is borderline bipolar with neurotic tendencies. Self diagnosed, because I'm also a hypochondriac. I went months without getting laid, and finally got some from Mr. One Night Stand. I spend months forgetting about my old life, building up these great big WIDE boundaries between myself and the rest of the world so I can have some chance at the old "keep on keepin' on" thing that people are supposed to do, and you make me have…" I had gotten kind of shrill. I took a deep breath. "Feelings. Which is shitty of you because, frankly, I've heard how you are."

"You are either stupid or blind." Dean shook his head. "I'm going to give you some unsolicited advice. Pull the stick out of your ass and get a grip on yourself, and I mean soon. I may not be the poster child for healthy relationships or dealing with baggage, but I've seen the path you're on. Hell, I've BEEN on the path your on, and it ain't gonna end pretty. Stop being selfish. Face the fact that you are a damned human being. Stop beating yourself up because something feels good, for Christ's sakes, stop being so stubborn."

I pursed my lips. "Wow. Okay." My voice was a whisper. I'd dealt with sympathy, and pity before. All the soft words of friends and well meaning family members couldn't change what happened, so they made me angry. They were pointless. It had been a very long time since I could tell someone how I feel without hearing 'awe…' or 'poor thing,' or some religious platitude. I'd placed myself in a self imposed prison to avoid all that, and then run to avoid the past. I sighed. Maybe it wasn't Dean that was driving me crazy. Maybe I was driving myself crazy. "So, maybe I'm not fine. And, maybe, and I'll deny it if you say something later, maybe I'm being a bitch. I just… Last night-"

"I don't know what you think last night was about," I closed my eyes.

"Dean, I told you. You don't have to let me down easy. I DO know what last night was about. I know you are trying to be nice, or you think you are being helpful… I don't want your pity."

"You know, just because you pity yourself doesn't mean everyone else around you does do."

I didn't know what to say. When I looked at Dean, I knew it was never going to happen, but he would speak, and part of me wanted to forget that we would never be, or believe that maybe he wanted me for more than just one night. I wanted to be angry with him for it, but I couldn't.

There was intensity to Dean's stare as I met his gaze. I wanted to ask him what he was looking for. I wanted to tell him that I wanted him, right then, and see what he said. I was tempted to tell him that I could feel myself developing a very inconvenient affection for him, and that I yelled because if I didn't I would fall into his arms like an idiot. I licked my lips and looked down at my hands. I wasn't going to do any of those things, because I figured I already knew what he would say. If it hurt this bad just thinking it, how would it feel if he said it? No, I kept my mouth shut as Dean shifted into drive and pulled out on the interstate, calling Sam to let him know we were about 15 minutes behind him in the truck.

* * *

><p>An - Mary Jane, your reviews make me have all the feels! I hope you continue to like what I'm working on :)


	15. Je Ne Sais Quoi

Dean and I were silent the rest of the drive, but it wasn't the same tense silence as before. The storm that had been building since we let had broken. I couldn't change how I felt, and I couldn't change the fact that Dean probably didn't feel the same way. It was sad, yes, but accepting it was easier now. To be honest, I'd needed what had happened the night before.

As we got closer to Osakis, my apprehension and excitement grew. I was 16 the last time I'd seen Kirsti. I was sure she knew about all the… stuff… that had happened over the last few years, since she was on my Facebook, but she'd always been part of what made coming to Osakis such an escape. I figured I could trust her to keep things, you know, light.

Dean glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. I caught myself fidgeting. "I'm just excited. And nervous." I smiled weakly at him. "I haven't seen Kirsti since I was 16. A lot can happen in almost 10 years, even when you're super close."

"Super?" Dean smirked that damned smirk as he shook his head.

"We were like Merry and Pippin, every summer."

"What?"

"Umm, Lord of the Rings? 'One ring to rule them all?' Seriously? No bells ringing?" I couldn't believe it.

"I'm more of a 'boobs and bombs' kind of guy."

That didn't surprise me. "I should have known. Okay, so she was like the Riggs to my Murtaugh."

"I was hoping you'd say something like, 'The Jenna Jameson' to your-"

There he went again. Maybe someday I'd get over him, so I could laugh at jokes like that. "Seriously, Dean?"

"Well, you know, since you're sharing now. If you ever had to get it off your chest about 'That one time in college' that girls seem to mention all the time, I'm always happy to be supportive of bi-curious girls." I blushed so dark I may have turned purple.

"Pig."

"Ice princess." I caught his eye and we both smiled. I guess I could joke with him, even if what we talked about made me a little tingly.

When we hit Alexandria, I took Dean the back way into town so we came right out by the lake. I wanted to catch a glimpse of it before we got there. "Left up here." It was around 2 o'clock when we hit Osakis, heading straight for the resort. I was relieved to see that IdleWilde hadn't changed much.

It was nice to see the rustic cabins, kept natural, but not shabby. The office had a fresh coat of paint, as did the indoor pool building, but other than that, it was like going home. Dean pulled up next to the office. "I'll be right back."

I was jittery as I headed into the office, but my smile was instant and bright as my eyes fell on Kirsti. She hadn't changed a bit. Her hair was still very blonde, although it looked like she had graduated from Clairol and started going to the salon. It still fell well below her shoulders, her eyes were still blue, and she still had a bronze tan. Kirsti's shirt was cut just a little too low and her jeans a little too tight. I couldn't see behind the counter, but I bet her heels were unreasonably high, too.

Her eyes snapped up as the door slid shut, and she grinned as hard as I did. Then, she literally squeed at me. Nope, hadn't changed a bit. I was even right about the heels as she rushed me, running better in them than I probably did in tennis shoes, wrapping me in a hug. Around here, girls like Kirsti were called "corn fed," all tits and ass with a slim waist line. I'd always been jealous of how she carried herself. When I was younger I used to even emulate her a bit. I was glad I'd given up on that pipe dream.

Being around her brought back all those old feelings. Friendship, love, trust… and some of (most of) the insecurity. Yeah, I had a bigger chest, but I had a little bit more everywhere else too. I tried to remind myself that it didn't matter, but I couldn't help feeling plain compared to her. She was a bright pink Barbie. I was un-extraordinary in a black v neck shirt and jeans.

"OMIGAWD! Oli! You made it!"

I opened my mouth to speak, but Kirsti is a bit like a tidal wave. She didn't stop until she ran out of momentum on her own. "I set you and your friends up in that little two bedroom bungalow, and we are TOTALLY going to the Hole tonight and you HAVE to let me do your hair!"

I waited a moment to make sure she was done. "I'm not much of a bar-"

"Nope. If you try and make an excuse I'll just ignore you. I will kidnap you, if I have to." I laughed. She would do it. I'd seen her.

"Alright! Just don't duct tape me in your trunk."

"That was one time. And I didn't tie you up! Besides, you got in a lot less trouble when your dad found out I'd literally kidnapped you."

I shook my head, grinning. That was one crazy night.

Kirsti and I were trading stories from the past as she led me out of the door, handing me a set of keys. We reached the impala, and I stiffened. Dean and Sam had their hands full with all of the bags, and Ninja danced around them. I had caught Dean mid-eyefuck, and I was pretty sure it wasn't me that his lustful green eyes had landed on. I quickly looked away, kicking myself for not thinking of what might happen on this job. I just brought Dean Winchester around the hottest real life person that existed, as far as I knew. Well, at least by the end of the weekend I would be sure that I was right, not to take the plunge and tell Dean how I felt.

I knew Kirsti well enough to know without looking at her to know that she was eye fucking Dean right back, but I couldn't fault her for it. He was eye-bangable.

"I'm Kirsti. With an I."

Dean nodded and shot a look at Sam, wiggling his eyebrows.. "Nice to meet you, Kirsti with an I. That's Sam, my brother." His eyes caught mine, and he cleared his throat. "I'm Dean."

"Nice to meet you." Sam smiled at Kirsti and gave me a look. I was seriously going to have to learn the silent language these guys spoke if I was going to spend any large amount of time with them. I had no idea what it meant, and I was tired of being lost.

"I'll show you to the cabin. Oli, we should hit the sauna before we go out. Oh, yeah, you guys are taking us out to the Hole for some drinks. You can come to the sauna too." Tidal Wave Kirsti led the way, and the guys fell in step beside me.

"Oli?" Dean grinned.

"With an I." I may have snapped at him, picking up the pace to walk by Kirsti. "I don't know that the sauna is a good idea. I don't even own a bathing suit anymore."

"That's fine. I own about 50. You can borrow one."

Great. Just what I needed. Near nudity in an enclosed space with Kirsti, and probably Dean, too. "Okay. I guess." I bit my lip, making a point of avoiding Dean's gaze as Kirsti let us in to the cabin.

Dean, Sam and Ninja wandered in behind us, and Kirsti gave us a tour. The main room was open, with a dine in kitchen, knotty pine dining table, and a large fold out couch. It wasn't the Taj Mahal, but it was WAY more comfortable than what I had found myself used to in the last few months.

"It's only a two bedroom, but the couch folds down. Master bath had a Jacuzzi tub put in last summer." I nodded along as Kirsti recited the amenities of the room, only half listening. We used to have slumber parties here when it was unoccupied. Kirsti usually snug in boys and wine coolers. I'd had my first summer romance, first "real" kiss, and first heart break in that cabin. I smiled softly, lost in memories.

I jumped about a half a foot when Dean put his hand on my shoulder. "Nice digs." I nodded, sliding away from his electric touch before he managed to cause any more brain damage. "Think Kirsti would answer a few questions?"

"I'm sure she'd love to talk to you, Dean." My voice was flat as I grabbed my duffle. "Dibs on the Jacuzzi room." Kirsti followed me in to the room. I didn't look back.


	16. Legs

Kirsti made good on her promise and kidnapped me, taking me up to the house on the top of the property. Her play house was still out in the yard. I sat on a stool while she primped, doing hair and makeup. Only Kirsti would apply a fresh coat of cover girl before hopping in the sauna. She'd taken it upon herself to turn me in to her own personal Barbie doll, but I'd convinced her to save it for going out. I couldn't sit through two spit shin shine and polish sessions.

When she had perfected her look, she led me out the door. I made sure to grab a towel, wrapping it securely around myself. Her taste hadn't changed, and the suit didn't leave much to the imagination. Coupled with her slightly smaller frame, my modesty was very much at risk.

Sam and Dean were already in the sauna when we got there. The sight of Dean's bare chest, beaded with sweat, made me flush red. I kept the towel around myself as I sat down next to Kirsti. She grinned and winked at the boys, tugging at the back of my towel. I shrieked as it fell in a pool around me. I glared at her, and she laughed. "Oli is too shy for her own good."

I set my jaw, resisting the urge to cover myself with my hands. I caught Dean looking at us, and I suddenly wanted to cover Kirsti and her bubble gum pink string bikini instead. From head to toe. In a nun's habit. "Kirsti should keep her hands to herself." I muttered.

Sam cleared his throat. "How's business?" I knew they wanted to get some info for the case, so I stowed my embarrassment for the time being. I looked up. Dean sat across from us, staring at a spot on the wall just behind our heads. I wanted the earth to swallow me. I didn't look THAT ridiculous, did I?  
>"It's our slow season." Kirsti gave the boys one of her devastating smiles. Part of me was really mad at her for being pretty AND nice. Life would have been easier if I could have hated her.<p>

"Any trouble with…" I trailed off, not wanting to upset Kirsti. She was brazen, yes, but also my best friend.

"Most of the girls were a couple years behind me in school, so I didn't know them too well. Mom and dad moved into that house they were building, but he comes by to check on me ever since… You know. Us girls don't go out alone so much anymore." Kirsti sill smiled, but it wasn't as bright as normal. I grabbed her hand.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm good. Most of the girl's are townies, since it's the off season. Little sisters of a couple of my friends are pretty terrified, but I'm alright."

"I'll take care of you." I gave her hand a squeeze and we shared a smile. That's how we were. She was the instigator, I was the care taker. Thor and Loki. Damn, I should have used that analogy with Dean.

It was Dean's turn to clear his throat. The smirk that made me nuts suddenly made me remember the porn star conversation from the car ride and I blushed. He smirked MORE, if that's possible.

"I'm sure it's tough." Sam's voice was sympathetic as he kept up the conversation. Kirsti scooted closer to me.

"You assume you're safe, in a town like this. I don't get it. Osakis' biggest crime is public intox, or fishing without a license. All of a sudden, people around the lake start dropping like flies… I just want to be safe again."

"You will be." Dean finally spoke. When his eyes fell on her, I noticed that she sat up a bit straighter, putting on her Kirsti Sex Kitten persona. I chewed on my lip.

"Any local suspicions?" God bless Sam, for keeping things normal.

"The girls who died, I don't know."Her lip quivered. "Every time I hear about one, I can't help but think about how it could have been me."

"It won't be you." I was firm. "Why would it be you?" I was also confused.

"So far, everyone who has been attacked has been a girl who isn't seeing anybody seriously, you know? Dating around. They were, um, fooling around with someone by the lake, you know, just having some fun. The guy they are with is always fine, relatively. Unconscious, chased off, whatever. I finally just had to stop dating, when they noticed the pattern. I haven't been on a date in WEEKS." Her sigh was distressed, and it made her chest rise and fall in a way made me feel, for lack of a better term, butt hurt.

"Now THAT is the real tragedy…"

I shot Dean a look when he muttered it. Maybe he was bemoaning the world's loss of another hot bar chick, but he almost sounded sarcastic. He MUST have sounded sarcastic, because Kirsti shot him a look.

"Remember Tyler?" I changed the subject, leaning back next to her.

"Ohhhh yeah." Kirsti laughed.

"Who is Tyler?" Dean's voice was dark as he got up to pour water on the rocks.

"My high school boyfriend. He was a nice guy. Friendly. Probably friendlier than I should have been dating. Oli came to see me without her parents the last time she came up, and I felt like he was flirting with her, and I was a little hurt. I may have acted out."

I barked out a laugh. "Yes, acted out is one term for it."

"What happened?" Sam looked amused.

"We had a slumber party at the cabin-"I started the story, but Kirsti told it better, so I let her cut in.

"I thought he was hitting on Oli. I was stupid enough to believe she'd have let him. I was mad, so I kind of hit on the dock boy that she'd started seeing over the summer. I played with a strand of my hair. We were past this high school crap, but I still didn't like it being brought up. "I may have sorta… slept… with him, a tiny bit. Tyler was super mad, and it went to Oli-"

"And I hit him in the face for thinking he didn't have to be a gentleman anymore." My voice was no nonsense and I gave her hair a little tug to get her attention. Those sorts of details were no one's business but ours. I gave her a quick squeeze around the shoulders. "No means no, and no one calls my friend a slut, except for me." Kirsti shook her head, laughing at the bemused look on Sam and Dean's face.

A/n –

Supergirlrules: I really appreciate the honest feedback, and would love for you to elaborate on where I can improve. I know the greatness of supernatural is pretty much impossible to live up to, but I'd love to make sure my story is as enjoyable for all the readers as possible What do you think could help?

Mary Jane: I haven't seen a new review in a couple of days, but I peek back at your old ones when I need a pick me up! Thanks so much.

Hoove-print-on-your-heart: I corrected the chapters, but I don't know if you get notices when chapters are updated or just added, so I wanted to reiterate that the timeline should make a LOT more sense now

KitKatsGirl04, WelshJuiliet, Werewolflover722, thanks so much for the follow/favs! I hope you continue to enjoy the new content

BrookfieldSPNFan, Lostgirl97, XXArmageddonXX, KTR24, Sunshine1984, wideawakepastmidnight, I hope you've liked it so far, and continue to like what's coming


	17. One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer

That night, as we prepared to go out, I exercised all my self control. I wanted to protest the "look" that Kirsti devised for me, but I knew the distraction probably did her some good, so I held my tongue. She had a beautician's license and she did some work out of the spare room in the house. I got to experience her expertise as she trimmed my hair for the first time in years, chatting about folks we ran with in the summers. I was feeling dubious about the amount of hair on the ground around me as she snipped, eventually sending me to the shower, with strict orders not to look in the mirror. I did my best not to think about anything, Dean, the case, my life, at all as the shower head pounded on my back.

I started to feel pruny, and I didn't want to use all of Kirsti's hot water, so I hopped out a toweled dry. By the time I emerged from the bathroom, Kirsti was already dressed in a form fitting little black dress, emphasis on the little. Her hair and makeup were perfect, and I felt a twinge of envy in the pit of my stomach as she set some clothes down on her bed. My smile was nervous as she sat me down to work on my face.

Finally, Kirsti was satisfied. She made me dress and then sent me in to the closet to look in the full body mirror. She'd wanted it to be a surprise, and it sure as hell was. I could see the expectant look on her face over my bare shoulders in the reflection of the mirror. Kirsti had blown my hair cut, curling the ends. It still hung a few inches passed my shoulders, but I hardly recognized it with all the work she did. I never thought my hair could look that good, and to be honest, it probably wouldn't look that could ever again. I don't care what anyone says, no matter how manageable or easy a style is, you can never reproduce what happened in the salon. Maybe they were all secretly witches?

I solemnly surveyed myself, in awe of what she had done. My hair looked healthy and shiny, framing my face and cascading over my shoulders. She'd lined my eyes in black, and between that and the mascara that lengthened my lashes, my eyes popped. Yup. Definitely witches.

She'd dressed me in a dark plum. The top was strapless with a sweet heart neckline that, quite frankly, terrified me. Kirsti was at least a dress size smaller than me, and it baffled me that she didn't realize that. I turned and looked at my profile. The bodice was super tight down my torso, lifting my breasts and holding in my tummy as it lay flush down through my hips, stopping just above my knees. It would have been damn near modest from the waist down if it weren't for the slit on the right side, running far enough up the front that the black lace of the from the unopened pack of thigh highs that Kirsti had bestowed on me peaked out. I took a big, deep, nervous breath, and blushed as I saw the affect it had on my chest in the dress.

If that wasn't bad enough, when Kirsti found out that all I brought were tennis shoes, a pair of work boots, and some flip flops, she forced me in to a pair of designer heels that made me cringe, they were so high. I'm no stranger to stilettos, but I'd assumed those days were long behind me. No hunter would be caught dead in heels like those. Well, actually, if they did hunt in them, they would be caught, and probably end up dead, so that is not an accurate turn of phrase. Regardless, the cumulative effect of the makeover made me feel… dubious. "What do you think?" Kirsti sounded pretty damn proud of her handy work.

"Well, I mean, it's a little much, just to go to the Hole. Isn't that place a dive?"

"That's exactly why it's even more important to go all out. We'll brighten the place up! Besides, when guys as hot as those two you brought with you take you out, you gotta do your damnedest to keep their attention!"

Don't I know it, sister. I sighed. "Let's get it over with, then." I squared my shoulders and followed Kirsti out. We grabbed our jacket and walked to the front doors, and I could feel how the combination of heels and tight dress made my hips move. I blushed, but part of me was a little excited to see how Dean would react. If he would react at all.

The sun had set, and I thanked God that my old woolen peak coat hung down below my hips, concealing most of the flesh on thighs that the dress exposed. Kirsti and I rode in the back seat behind the boys, and I was surprised when Dean came around to open my door for me. I nervously smiled thanks, and the boys headed in to get us a table. The little dive was the only place to drink in town, so it was crowded.

I took a cue from Kirsti and slid my jacket off, throwing it in the back seat of the car as she looped her arm through mine. "I'm glad you're here, Oli."

I smiled, trying to be careful of the ruby red lipstick that Kirsti had forced on me at the last minute. "Me too." Despite my nerves, I was actually telling the truth as we headed into the Hole.

Like most small towns, the bar was filled with local hard noses, the limited singles scene, and young couples with no kids to watch for the night. I swallowed the lump of apprehension in my throat as I felt the draft from the door shutting stir the air. The bar was small, but with the crowd it took a moment of scanning before I caught sight of the boys, looking relaxed in the back corner. Sam was nursing a beer, Dean had a tumbler of whiskey and there were full shot glasses lined up on the table. The juke box was playing Credence, and as Dean looked in our direction, I felt the familiar urge to turn and run, or dig a hole to hide in. I turned my usual shade of pink as his eyes swept down the two of us. It seemed irrational to assume that the look in his eyes was just for me, especially with Kirsti there next to me, sparkling away, but I let myself pretend for a moment, anyways.

Kirsti slid in to the booth first, and I settled down next to her, immediately snatching one of the shots and downing it to reinforce my courage. Sam, Dean and Kirsti made small talk, and I occasionally nodded, but most of my attention was focused on not allowing any of my tightly constrained body parts to escape my dress.

Another round of drinks came, and I threw back another shot. I still felt like I was thrumming with anxiety. I figured the alcohol must have been defective. Two shots of that local fire water should have had me feeling relaxed, if not loosie goosie. I considered writing a letter to the brewer to complain. If the booze worked as advertised, I wouldn't have wanted to assault my child hood friend for the way she was looking at Dean. I fought down my jealousy. After all, I had no right to be mad. I had no claim on Dean.

I hid my grimace behind my glass and took a sip as Kirsti laughed a little too enthusiastically at one of Dean's jokes. The guy was charming, sure, but no one was THAT funny.

"Something interesting in your drink?" My eyes shot up and met Dean's. He was a little flushed. His alcohol must not have been defective.

"I'm trying to focus on keeping my boobs in my dress." I cringed inwardly and resisted the urge to facepalm . I guess my alcohol wasn't defective either. It was just delayed.

Sam and Kirsti burst out laughing, and Dean wore the smirk that made me want to punch in and jump his bones, in no particular order. "Is that all? Loosen up, sweetheart. I promise no one would mind." He gave me a wink that made my heart flutter and I lowered my gaze to the table again as I turned red.

I barely heard the excuse the Winchesters made to Kirsti as they left the table. Whatever they said they were doing, I knew they wanted to grill the locals for intel on the case.

"Hey, Oli?"

I turned to look at Kirsti as she took a sip of her Mike's Hard. "yeah?"

"That Dean… He's super hot. What's the deal with him?"

I blanched. I'd seen this coming, I should have been more mentally prepared. I took a gulp of my drink to buy time. "Deal?" I tried to look nonchalant. Either I succeeded or Kirsti was too buzzed up to notice.

"He's single, right? It's just him, his brother, and you? Wait… You two aren't- are you? 'Cuz, you know he looks like he would be fun to hang out with. Alone. Preferably naked."

I could have spontaneously combusted. I reached a shade of red that I had never achieved, in all of my experience with blushing. Kirsti laughed. "Sorry. You've become such a prude, it's kinda fun to get a rise out of you."

I practiced the Bitch Face I'd learned from Sam so long ago, on the first night we met. Kirsti's laugh intensified. "You are too serious. But, really, and I mean it, you have to be honest because I'm WAY to drunk to know any better… It wouldn't be bad of me to make a move on him, right? I think I want to go home with him." My brow furrowed. I figured Dean had already been laying it on pretty thick with Kirsti. I didn't understand why she would need to make a move. I also didn't like that she was going to, but like I said, I really had no right to claim him.

It took a lot of work to set my jaw so that I didn't word vomit all over Kirsti about my conflicted feelings for Dean. My school girl crush wasn't her problem, and expecting a single guy not to jump at the chance to sleep with Kirsti was like expecting the sun not to rise. I just shrugged, standing. I know my smile was weak, but I gave it my best shot . "I guess it's really up to Dean."

As I walked to the bar for one more drink, I kicked myself. I thought I had squashed the worst of my feelings, but judging by the sickening knot in my stomach, I'd missed some. I mentally prepared myself for a looooong night.

* * *

><p>An - Mary Jane and petrovascurls, you guys give me ALL the feels. (I took your advice in a future chapter, petrovascurls, btw :) )


	18. There's a Tear in My Beer

We needed a few things, and it wasn't all that late, so Sam took baby to the store and left Dean, Kirsti and I at the resort. I immediately kicked off my heels, heading straight for the Jacuzzi tub to soak my aching feet. Dean plopped down on the fold out, and my jaw clenched when I saw how close Kirsti had placed herself to him. She looked like the real hunter. I almost felt bad for Dean. Almost.

I tried to force the naïve part of me that thought nothing would happen to just shut the hell up. I needed to deal with the fact that Kirsti wanted Dean, and she'd probably get him. Humping was just how they related to the world.

Maybe I was a tiny bit bitter.

I peeled off the dress, starting the tub. I figured I would take a good long soak, maybe grab a book and get some preemptive research done, so I wrapped a big old beach towel around myself and headed back towards the living space. When the door swung open, I saw Kirsti and Dean. I froze, my stomach clenching. Dean's hands were on Kirsti's shoulders. Her dress was askew, riding up to reveal her legs, the top sagging dangerously low. Dean's eyes were filled with shock when they met mine, and I could have sworn I saw some guilt. Kirsti turned, holding her dress up as she saw me. She had a pink flush to her tanned face, and she looked half as embarrassed as I felt.

I clutched at my towel, my jaw working, but no sound coming out. 'Dean doesn't belong to you…' I reminded myself. It didn't help. The green little monster in my stomach danced with the red hot anger in my heart, making a nice, brown, emotional shit storm.

"Um… Sorry." I muttered. I felt something break inside of me. I knew it wasn't fair to be mad at them. I knew how they both were. He was sex made human and she was porn made reality. It was only natural for them to gravitate towards one another. My head said to be calm, but I've never been a very rational person. We were frozen in tableau when the door opened. Sam stood in the threshold with Ninja, who had snuck into the Impala for a little ride. He looked from Dean, who for once, didn't wear a smirk, to Kirsti. She looked at me like she wanted to approach. I bit my lip, feeling Sam's eyes fall on my face.

I fought my feelings as hard as I could, but I was overcome, attacked by all of the hurt, anger, and embarrassment boiling inside of me. Sam ran a hand down his face.

"Shit." He muttered. I turned on my heel and walked back into my room, slamming the door.

* * *

><p>AN – Short chapter, but a good one is coming up! It will be posted tonight or tomorrow, I promise! Mary Jane, Sunshine, Petro, I can't thank you enough for your encouragement! I hope you continue to enjoy! I have hand written out all of the first of three parts. I'm deciding if it will be one big story, or three individual stories now. What do you all think?


	19. Bitch

My hands shook so badly I nearly ripped my thigh highs as I pulled them off. I hadn't realized I was still wearing them under my towel. I unfastened the garters and balled them up, heaving the fancy lingerie in the corner. I was biting my lip so hard it nearly drew blood as I turned off the tub and started water in the sink as hot as it would go. The scalding hot water burned on my skin. I was relieved as the physical pain dulled the pain in my heart.

I scrubbed off the makeup until my skin was pink, tying my hair up in a messy bun. I yanked on black leggings, not bothering with undergarments, and had just fastened my bra when there was a knock on the door. I ignored it, pulling a black tank top over my head and slipping on tennis shoes. I didn't want to snap on anyone. Sam would just be trying to help, and if I admitted to Dean or Kirsti that I was mad, it would bring to light feelings I had worked bury for the sake of the hunt.

I dug my shoulder holster out of my duffle and slipped it on. I let Sam convince me that too much firepower was better than too little, and precaution was a must on an active case. I made sure each nine mm slip was full, one with silver, the other with rock salt. I strapped my silver knife to my back and shrugged in to a hoody, tucking my hair into a slouchy beanie to keep it out of my face. I was too mad to stay put, so I opted to be useful. I'd patrol the area around the resort for trouble and clear my head.

The main room was dim, most of the lights out for the night. I was pleasantly surprised to find myself alone. The fold out couch was not in use. Well, technically it was, but by Ninja, as opposed to Sam or Dean. His head shot up as I quietly slid my door shut. I guess there was no out ninjaing a ninja, and I sighed in defeat as his eyes begged me to bring him along.

"Come on then." I whispered. It was just about bar close according to the wall lock. I knew he wouldn't help deter most monsters, but over friendly drunks walking home from the bar would keep a wide berth when they saw him.

Ninja danced on his leash, excited to head out with me. He hadn't gotten much alone time with mommy in the last few days. I promised myself I would be more attentive when the hunt was over and I could leave the Dean Distraction behind.

The docks were deserted, boats bobbing on the mild waters. Most of the spots were empty, but the for hire boats all seemed exactly as I remembered, right down to the slips they were moored on. Other than a northern floating dead on the surface, stirring up Ninja, all was quiet. I half hoped to run in to whatever it was we were hunting. If we ganked it tonight, I could load up the truck and be gone before I had to face Dean again.

I was off of the resort grounds and in a stand of trees along the water line before I noticed anything odd. It was really late, and even most of the street lights were off, so I could hardly tell I was in civilization. Ninja and I made our way down a trail that led to the old boat launch when I noticed an odd sighing and moaning coming from the trees. I unhooked Ninja's lead. This wasn't his first rodeo, and I knew he stick close if danger struck. He sniffed around beside me as I followed the noise.

I slunk through the tree line. Judging by the volume and tempo of the noises, I was getting close (And so were they, whoever they were… wink wink, nudge nudge.) I'd probably find the source when the tree line broke a couple hundred yards ahead. I opened my sweater to have easier access to my weapons, just in case.

Ahead and to my right, I head a rustling. I was focused on tracking the sound of the noise. I nearly leapt out of my skin as a shriek pierced the night, right from the direction of the moans I'd been following. Ninja growled low in his throat and took off after the noise, just a split second before I did.

It seemed the trees were trying to hinder me as I tore through the underbrush. Branches reached out, trying to snag my clothes, scratching my face. I barely ducked in time to miss a low branch as I slid to a stop in a small clearing, briefly losing my footing. Ninja stood his ground, snarling at a man dressed in chuck Taylors, tube socks, unfortunately short shorts and a tank top. He was standing in the shallows of the lake, soaking wet, and his skin was tinted blue.

I scrambled for my rock salt loaded gun. Just on the other side of Ninja, a girl in her twenties was cowering on the ground, whimpering. There were leaves in her tangled brown hair, and her clothes were rumpled.

"Ninja! Down!" I ordered. The last thing I needed was my dog to get caught in the cross fire. I was surprised at how strong my voice was, considering the fact that coming face to face with any monster was terrifying. I was always pleasantly surprised at my composure (When I had any, anyways.)

Ninja obeyed immediately. The baddie that had attacked the girl spun, turning his attention to me. His eyes were sunken, and his pallid skin was waxy and bloated. I steadied my right hand with my left, my stance strong as I took aim. I was feeling pretty confident as I pulled the trigger…

And missed. The ghost let out a growl of his own, advancing on me as I let off another wild shot. His eyes narrowed as he plowed me into the ground. He'd knocked the breath clean out of me. I must have hit my head on the way down, because I felt dazed, and there was a dull throbbing just above my neck. As I fell, my gun went off, finally striking home. The ghost dissipated like it was made of smoke.

I was exercising the more colorful parts of my vocabulary as the terrified girl scrambled over to me. "Jesus. Are you okay?" I groaned as he voice hit my ears. Why was everything so loud? I slumped on the ground, hands empty, rock salt gun escaping in the recoil of my shot.

"I'm fine." I slowly struggled into a sitting position, digging around for the gun. Ninja trotted over, giving me a puppy kiss before sharing his affections with my fellow victim. She laughed, climbing to her feet.

"I'm Mandi!" She held out a hand and I took her offer of help as I grabbed my gun, checking the clip when I regained my feet.

"Let me guess. With an 'I'?" I sighed, reminded of the events of the evening.

"Yes, but not by choice!" She grinned, and I chuckled. "What was that?" She was brushing herself off, and I followed suit.

"That is bad news. Can you run in those?" I motioned to the girl's shit kicker boots as my eyes darted around, scanning the darkness for signs of our little friend.

She nodded. "Who can't run in boots?"

I was about to say something witty, but I cut off, hearing a bubbling noise coming from the lake. We both slowly turned towards the water, as if delaying our confirmation could change the fact that the water rioted just off the shore. The bubbles moved closer. I handed Mandi Ninja's leash. "Run towards town. I'll be right behind you. Ninja will be a big help finding the road. Don't turn around. Don't stop. I'll be right behind you, and if we lose each other, you just head for IdleWilde. Pound on the door of the cabin with the old cars. Someone will answer, probably a guy, and I promise they will NOT thing you're crazy. Tell them EVERYTHING." Her eyes never left mine as I gave her instructions. She nodded firmly. I think she knew I didn't plan on following her.

I peaked at the water. The bubbling was at the shore, a waxy hand clawing at the ground. I gave Mandi a push. "GO!" I faced the water, sparing a glance over my shoulder to make sure she'd left. I'd cocked my gun and smiled with grim determination as the drowned man pulled himself out of the water. He was smiling maliciously as he moved towards me.

"Hey, handsome. The wet t-shirt contest ended about an hour ago." He stopped, looking quizzical. "Tell you what. You can have the participation trophy anyways."

The water logged ghost chuckled darkly, and it was all I could do to keep my fear at bay as I leveled my gun on him. I wasn't going to miss this time.

"Bitch…" He spat, vanishing. I spun, hoping I'd pissed it off enough that it either focused on me or gave that Mandi girl enough of a head start to reach Sam and Dean.

My stomach dripped when I thought his name, but I couldn't afford the distraction right now. "Hey!" I yelled, trying to get its attention. "Why'd you run off? No one likes a wet blanket!" I was sort of thankful I was alone. I may have been scared, but I would have died in embarrassment if someone witnessed me cliche-ing at a ghost. "I thought you liked picking on women."

"Whore." I whipped around. The ghost grinned feraly at me, his face just inches from mine as he loomed over me. I could smell the death and decay on his body. I rolled to the ground, barely escaping his grasp. I didn't waste time trying to be Buffy-esque and sarcasm the damn ghost to the other side. That obviously didn't work. I discharged my gun somewhere in his general direction and sprinted as fast as I could along the water line. Mandi had headed into the trees and I wanted to keep Tall, Dark, and soaking as far from Idelwilde as possible, so I ran in the opposite direction. There was another resort less than a mile around the lake, and I knew they closed up until Memorial Day, so I could find a place to hole up without endangering anyone.

I could feel the ghost popping up behind me in that really rude way they have. The air around him felt heavy and wet, and I knew before his hand wrapped around my upper arm that he had me. I lurched to a stop, slamming into his solid, soaking chest as he whipped me around. I was going to die fighting, damnit.

His hands closed around my throat, the pressure slowly increasing as he tried to squeeze the life out of me. My vision narrowed, and all I was aware of was the rotten, moldy sent of him as his mouth neared mine, the reassuring weight of my gun still clutched in my hand.

My eyes widened. I could have slapped myself. Even as I got dangerously close to losing consciousness, I smiled. The ghost kept squeezing, but stopped the descent of his rotten mouth over mind for just a moment, confused, I guess. It took all of my remaining strength, but I swung my gun up, pressing the barrel into his jaw. As the rock sale ripped through him, he vanished, and I fell to my knees. "It's called a tic-tac, douche nozzle." I coughed, sucking up oxygen. I just couldn't resist the one liner, even though it hurt to talk.

I wanted to lie down and sleep for a week, but I knew the rock salt wouldn't keep the ghost from reappearing eventually, so I stood, massaging my throat. That was gonna leave a mark.

My knees were wobbly as I jogged towards the seasonal resort, eyes peeled. I knew I wouldn't be able to run full speed, and I needed to be vigilant. I reached the dock a few moments later, and I stopped to catch my breath. I was too tired for fear, and I groaned in frustration as the water started to move again, violently swirling and bubbling. "Just can't take no for an answer…" I muttered, forcing myself in to motion. I scurried up the stairs that led from the docks to the boat house. It smelled like dead fish, and I could taste it was I panted. My foot caught the top step, and I tumbled forward, unable to catch myself. I face planted. Thank god no one was there to see it. I shook the stars out of my eyes and immediately sought my gun. It had fallen just behind me. I turned and reached for it, snapping it in to my grasp as a pair of rotten chuck Taylors squelched on the top step.

I scooted backwards on my rear, gun trained on the ghost. I squeezed the trigger, and nothing happened. My eyes widened in fear as the ghost licked his lips, sneering. I froze in shock as the ghost crouched. "Bitch." He hissed.

"Your vocabulary is limited." I was breathless with fear that outweighed my exhaustion. I shrank into the ground, throwing my arms up to protect myself as he leapt at me. I squeezed my eyes shut, saying a brief prayer as I waited for the hammer to fall.

I waited for a long time before I peaked an eye open. The ghost was still on the stop step, looking frustrated. "Huh." I snorted, then laughed in giddy relief, despite the pain in my throat. The ghost couldn't leave the lake. I flipped him the bird and lay on my back, catching my breath.

"Oh, shit." I laughed and cried at the same time. It was nervous, high-strung, and neurotic in pitch. I cut off, coughing as my throat throbbed. I rubbed the ache with one hand and pushed myself up with the other. I'd been gone at least a couple of hours, and I had a long walk back to Idlewilde ahead of me. There would be time to rest, later.


	20. Dazed and Confused

I trudged up Lake Street, hiding in the bushes occasionally to avoid being seen. I was pretty banged up. I could feel blood drying on my face from my fall and the bruises on my neck had a hot ache. I only had to hide from actual cars twice, about ten minutes apart. Thank god. If I had to dive into the bushes any more than that, I may not have gotten back up.

The closer I got to Idlewilde, the more I started to feel my aches and pains. I didn't even want to think about the knock on the head I had taken. I limped faster when I saw the security light shining down on the familiar Idlewilde sign. I'd wanted to get away so badly when tonight's little adventure started, but now I just wanted to plop down in the Jacuzzi and soak until I perma-pruned.

My sweater was peeled off before I even got the door open, the cool air a relief on the skin of my neck. I dumped the sweater by the door and sighed with relief as I leaned against the reassuringly strong wood with my eyes shut.

"Jesus Christ, Oli, are you okay?"

I groaned to myself as Kirsti bum rushed me, examining my cuts and bruises. She touched my cheek and I winced. I must have missed an injury when I evaluated myself. "Just trying a new look." My smile was more of a grimace. My face hurt.

Kirsti led me to the table, and I slumped into a chair. I noticed Mandi sipping on a hot drink across from me. She sputtered when her eyes fell on my face, setting he mug down with a thump. I shrugged, chuckling nervously.

"Did-" I grimaced at Kirsti and gave my head a small shake. Mandi got the point, silently mouthing thank you as she took another sip. Kirsti set a mug on the table and flopped on to a chair, her eyes set on my face. I was uncomfortable with the scrutiny, but I ached too much to fidget. "Mandi, there is a first aid kit in the master bathroom. Grab it, please?"

As Mandi got up to do as Kirsti asked, I noticed that she also had a faint bruise on her neck. I was impressed with how well she was holding up, all things considered. Kirsti took a deep breath.

"So… I crossed a line…"

That was just not something I wanted to discuss. "It's fine."

"You are a crappy liar."

I prepared myself to get hit by tidal wave Kirsti as she took another deep breath. "I should have known you liked Dean, even if you wouldn't admit it. I know you better than that. I was drunk and selfish. But next time, be up front. If I ever end up totally embarrassed throwing myself on an uninterested guy because of you again-"

My gaze snapped to hers. "What?"

Before she could answer, the front door banged open, and Ninja scrambled over the threshold, barely skidding to a stop next to my chair and plopping his head on my lap with a whine. "Hey, you!" I rasped. Ninja wined again. "You were a good boy tonight." He yipped, and I set my hand on his head. I looked towards the door. It hung open, blocked by Dean's muscular body. I could see Sam just over his head, stuck behind his brother.

Dean looked pissed. Like, scary mad. I tried another weak smile, raising the corners of my mouth. "Hey, guys."

Kirsti cleared her throat and stood. "I'm going to help Mandi." Kirsti darted out of the room. As soon as the bedroom door shut, Dean stomped into the great room. Ninja slunk away, and Dean knelt in his place and turned my chair. The sudden movement made me wince, and my whole body thrummed with nerves as Dean knelt between my legs.

I tried to make eye contact as long as I could, but I didn't have the wear with all to hold his gaze long before I looked down at the floor. His hands cupped my face, gently turning and tilting my head to examine the damage. His fingers probed my hair line and I hissed as he made contact with the lump on the back of my noggin. There was blood on his fingers when he pulled them away. "Sammy. Medkit. Now."

His voice was a growl. I swallowed, wincing as my throat clenched in pain and my heart began t beat fast. Sam slipped into the second bedroom. Dean's fingers pushed up on my chin and I winced.

"Son of a bitch." He must have seen the bruises. His fingers disappeared from my chin, and I resisted the urge to follow him with my eyes as he banged around the kitchen. Sam came back, carrying a tool box filled with medical supplies, some pretty professional, some very make shift. His smile was sympathetic as he set the kit on the table. For some reason, Sam's sympathy didn't fill me with irritation. Maybe I was just too tired to care.

Sam opened the lid on the tool box, taking out little shelves that were filled with gauze pads, needles, thread, alcohol wipes, antiseptic gel, and just about anything else you may need after a rough night on the hunt. After the shelves came out, Sam pulled out a blessed bottle of whiskey. I must have made a happy noise, because he chuckled as he opened the bottle.

"Looks like you might need this."

I would have smiled gratefully, if my face didn't hurt so badly. Dean materialized beside me, wrapping a cool, damp dishtowel around my neck. I felt a brief moment of panic at the feel of something cold and wet wrapping around my neck, but shoved it aside. I knew I was safe here.

"I've got it, Sammy."

Sam raised his eye brows at Dean, and they shared one of their wordless conversations before Sam gave Dean a nod, stepping away.

Dean and I sat in silence as he sterilized the various items he would need to patch me up. As the light glinted off a suture needle, I took a deep pull off the bottle, followed closely by two more. It hurt like hell to swallow, but I needed the liquid courage.

The bottle left my hands as Dean knelt between my knees again. Despite all my aches and pains, I flushed, aware of how close we were.

His jaw was clenched as he started cleaning blood off my face. I tried not to make eye contact. He was just so damn close, I was over whelmed by the smell of him. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply to keep from cringing when he touched somewhere tender. I was drifting from the whiskey and goose egg on my head. The soothing motion of the rag stopped, and I slowly opened my eyes. Dean had placed a hand on either side of me, trapping me in the chair as he leaned in close.

"What the hell were you doing?" His voice was too controlled. It almost seemed menacing.

"Taking a walk." My voice was barely a whisper.

"Armed."

I shrugged, then winced as a jolt of pain hit me. My shoulder may have been disclocated. "Just being careful. There are monsters out, you know."

Dean pulled my guns out o their holsters, examining them. "How does this even fire?" He was incredulous. "You ever clean this damn thing?"

Who cleaned a gun? I shook my head, not wanting to admit to the misfire. Dean got up abruptly, pulling a chair over and sitting so my knees were between his.

"This needs stitches." Dean was dabbing at a cut on my forehead, running a little over half an inch down from my hair line over my eyebrow.

"Okay."

I sucked my breath in with a hiss as dean slammed his fist down on the table. The med kit and I both Jumped. "It's not okay, Damnit! You went off half cocked into God knows what. With no back up and no word about where you were going." Dean scrubbed a hand down his face before grabbing the needle and thread.

I could see the tension in his jaw. I figured it was better not to answer. It was clear I pissed him off. Of course, as mad as he was, I was surprised at how gentle he was as he stitched up my forehead.

"Guess I'm going as Harry Potter for Halloween this year." I joked lamely as Dean finished up.

Dean was not amused. He brushed my hair out of the way and had me lean forward so he could put a butterfly closure on the split in the skin on my goose egg. His fingers gently touched the tattoo of a treble clef on my neck, and I gasped. His fingers probed and massaged as I leaned against him, my head on his chest. I figured he was checking for more injuries. It felt wonderful, until the soothing movements moved to my shoulders, and he put pressure just above my left shoulder blade. "FUCK NUGGETS!" I pulled away, getting dizzy when I moved too fast. The room spun dangerously until Dean set a hand on my good shoulder, anchoring me to the chair until the floor stopped moving.

"We have to do something about your shoulder. I gotta tell you, it's gonna hurt like hell."

I blew out a puff of air. I knew this would have to happen eventually. I guess I had hoped that I could just ask nicely and my shoulder would decide to go back in on its own. I should have known my shoulder would be a bitch about it. I took a few deep breaths to gather my courage. "Do it." I squeezed my eyes shut as Dean applied pressure to my shoulder.

"On three. One… Two…"

"Christ!" I screeched as my joint popped, my shoulder grinding into place. I panted and waited for the pain to subside. Dean's hands moved in circles on my back, relieving tension as they moved. My voice was scratchy as I moaned, and I leaned into the pressure. I knew I should stop him, but it felt so damn good.

"Do you wanna tell me what the hell happened?" His voice was throaty.

"I got a lead on the case." I closed my eyes. My throat protested my every word. "But I only want to tell it once."

Dean's hands slowed to a stop as he stepped away. I leaned against the table as he tapped on the master bedroom door. The other three emerged, taking seats around the table. I was satisfied to notice that Dean and Kirsti sat as far away from each other as possible.

Mandi went first, explaining that she'd been on a date with her boyfriend, but her parents didn't approve of him, so they met by the old boat launch in the trees to fool around. When the attacker approached, her boyfriend (ex, now, by the sound of it) beat feet and ran. The "weird creepy wet guy" had started to choke her, and she swore he had been trying to do… other things… when Ninja and I burst into the clearing, guns a blazing. Her view on the events painted my actions to be much more heroic, and WAY less stupid, than they actually were.

Dean had a thoughtful look on his face when I stole a glance at him. He must have felt my eyes on him, because his gaze flickered to mine, and I had to quickly avert my eyes.

"What was that thing, anyways?" It was there one minute, and then… POOF!" She shook her head. "He was like a freaking ninja!"

My dog's head popped up, but he lost interested when he realized we weren't talking about him.

"I mean, the guy looked… dead."

Sam and Dean shared another of their looks. "Well," Sam started, a preplanned story ready to spill out of his mouth.

"He was." My voice rasped as I interrupted. Sam exhaled loudly probably frustrated with me, and Dean's eyes stared holes in my head. I suddenly found the top of the table VERY interesting.

"Oli?" Kirsti sounded concerned.

I cleared my throat and started talking, despite the gravely ache each word left in its wake. "Kirsti, hear me out." I looked up at my friend. She was skeptical, but she motioned for me to continue. I ignored Dean's stare. "Remember growing up, we'd tell stories about the dock boy who worked one of the resorts around here over the summer? He started seeing a townie, right? They were getting it on in the dock house and her high school sweetheart showed up, picked a fight with the dock boy, and killed him… They never found the body. But, if you screw around, or have unprotected sex, or a one night stand, or do anything your daddy wouldn't want to hear about, the Dead Dock Boy would come snatch you up, or kill you as a proxy for the girl who lied to him and left him to die."

"That's just a story parents want their little girls to hear to scare their pants on." Mandi laughed nervously. "Isn't it?"

Kirsti looked from Sam to Dean, and form Dean to me, watching our faces. Maybe she thought this was a joke. Whatever she saw as she observed us caused her to slump back in her seat.

I finally took a good look at Dean and sighed. "They should know the truth, Dean. So they can protect themselves. No one can be everywhere at once."

The table lapsed into silence for a moment while we gave the girls a chance to process the big old information bomb I dropped on them. "You guys need to stay away from the water line. When we had our, uh, altercation, he tried to follow me off the shore, but he couldn't. Just in case, keep some iron on you, put salt on the window seals and door jambs, because ghosts can't cross it, and, for God's sake, would everyone at this table keep their damn pants on until we gank this son of a bitch?" I took a good look at Kirsti, Mandi and Dean. Kirsti and Mandi blushed, and Dean's brow furrowed as I coughed, my monologue over, and my voice done working for the night. I didn't say anything else. I just got up, and headed straight for my room, Ninja following after me.


	21. At the Library

A/n - Hey guys, got a few to upload tonight! Thanks for the reviews :)

* * *

><p>The boys and I hit the local library, making use of the microfiche and the stacks to try and find out who our Dead Dock Boy was. Now that we knew what we were after, it seemed like it should be a simple enough salt and burn.<p>

Sam used my description of the ghost to narrow down the time period we needed to focus on, and we browsed local employment records and obits. We were desperate to find anything useful before someone else got hurt. It was dry reading, but it had to be done. At least the research kept the awkward silences to a minimum.

I was reading news stories from autumn of 86. "Hey, guys-"

"Let me finish this page of the 1983 chamber of commerce directory. It's such a great read." I looked over my shoulder at Dean. I rolled my eyes and spared him a half smile. I will admit to being a little glad that he was bored. I'm bitter. Sue me.

Sam shook his head. "What's up?"

"I think I found something;

_'The ongoing investigation into the disappearance of Jacob Williams, 22, of Lincoln Ne has yielded few results. The young man was last seen entering the Dock House at Idlewilde resort last march. Authorities are still seeking information in the missing persons case. After a county wide search that concluded just one month ago today, the sheriff released a statement that Mr. Williams is presumed dead. When asked to comment on the impact this tragedy has had on their business, Mr. Mrs. Johnson stated that their primary concern was for the young man's family. Stacy Carter, reported to be romantically involved with Mr. Williams, will be released from St. Luke's psychiatric hospital in the coming weeks, following a nervous breakdown that occurred shortly after the disappearance.'_ "

I leaned back in my chair, looking fairly smug.

"Picture?" Dean walked up behind me, leaning on the back of my chair. His breath tickled my neck as he scanned the microfiche. I scrolled to the top, where they had included a smiling picture of Jacob Williams. "That's him?" I nodded in response. It was hard to reconcile the hateful, murderous beast from last night with the handsome, bright eyed young man in the picture in front of me.

Dean's hand brushed my shoulder, and I suppressed a shiver. I was going to keep moving forward and keep my cool until this case was over because people needed me, but being around Dean gave me occasional pangs as I remembered last night.

"I'm gonna go talk to the sheriff. See if you guys can find this Stacey chick. Maybe she's still local." I watched Dean walk out, chewing on my bottom lip. The door clicked shut, snapping me out of my daze. Sam raised a brow at me.

"Shut up." I blushed as I moved to the computer bay.

"I didn't say anything." Sam was attempting to look innocent and hide a smile.

"Yeah, well, you're thinking too loud." I muttered, burying myself in my research.

It only took about 20 minutes to find Stacey's address. She lived nearby, and I jotted down the address and handing it to Sam. He nodded his thanks and headed out. I kept digging.

* * *

><p>I'd gathered quite a bit of intel and walked back to the resort by the time Dean wandered in to the cabin. He grabbed a couple beers, and handed one to me. I took it with a mumbled thank you, barely looking up from the paper's I'd printed out at the library.<p>

"Good stuff?" Dean flopped onto the couch, plopping his feet on the coffee table.

"No. It's either irrelevant or very, very bad." I was massaging my sore neck absently.

"Great." His tone was dry. He took a swig of his beer. "That hurt?"

I nodded, never taking my eyes off the paper. I didn't see Dean approach, but suddenly he was behind me, his hands tentatively brushing the bruises on my neck with increasing pressure, slowly massaging the ache away. My eyes slid shut and I leaned my head back. I knew it was a bad idea to let him anywhere near me, what with the whole not having anything resembling good judgment when he's around, but it felt VERY nice.

His hands grew more bold, sliding down my arms and up again, making me shiver. Occasionally, I felt his fingertips tracing the bruises on my neck, and when his fingers reached my back and collar bone he applied more pressure, pressing me back into the chair. My head was resting on his abs and I couldn't hold back a little moan as my body relaxed. Dean must have taken this as some sort of invitation, because his hands moved over my shoulders and down to my chest. I felt his finger tips brush the crest at the top of my breasts. I felt the tell tale tingle blooming in my center, and my eyes flew open. I laid my hand on Dean's bringing his movements to a stop.

"Dean-"

"About Kirsti-" He had stopped rubbing, but hadn't moved his hands.

"Don't, Dean." I didn't want to hear about him and Kirsti right now. Or ever, for that matter. I just knew that I had to keep my head and stay sane.

Dean sighed heavily and returned to the couch.

I couldn't focus on the papers in front of me, but that didn't stop me from staring at them the rest of the afternoon.


	22. Makin' Plans

"What did you find out, Sammy?"

I jumped at the sound of Dean's voice as Sam walked in. My breath rushed out in a gush. I'd been very absorbed in pretending to pay attention to my research. Sam shot me a smile as he sat across the table from me and we put the pieces together. "Jacob Williams is definitely our Dead Dock Boy. The cops suspected Stacey's high school boyfriend but couldn't prove it."

My face was grim. It was time to drop my little bomb. "I dug in to St. Luke's. There was a wing in the psych ward for special cases. And by special cases, I mean… uh… knocked up unmarried chicks." Sam and Dean looked confused. "Stacey was in that wing. Most of the records were sealed but… Stacey had a little girl, adopted locally."

"So this Dead Dock Boy has a kid running around somewhere?" I could see Sam and Dean connecting the dots as Dean asked his question.

"Not just somewhere, Dean." I sighed. "Kirsti is adopted. From the St. Luke's Lost Lamb Adoption Placement Foundation. The date of her adoption coincides with the date that Stacey signed paperwork relinquishing her parental rights. Her birthday happens to be the same as Stacey's baby, too."

"Shit." Dean muttered. I nodded in agreement.

Sam grabbed a beer from the fridge. "What does this mean for the case?"

"It could mean nothing, and I can forget I ever found out. That is, if we can find Jacob's body for a salt and burn. All of his personal property is in Lincoln, which is a hell of a drive on an off chance…" I sighed. "If we can't we may need her help."

"I don't like where this is going." Sam sat back on his chair, running a hand through is hair.

"It's just a contingency. I found some digital copies of occult histories. Vengeful spirits don't just come from nowhere, right? Unfinished business, righting a wrong, whatever, it can trap them here."

"That's ghosts 101, babe."

I glared at Dean. And his stupid smirk. "I have a theory. If Jacob knew Stacey was pregnant, he may have told her to run when the high school boyfriend showed up, right? Maybe he stuck around to see his kid? And now it's been over 25 years, and he hasn't seen his kid or his woman, and maybe he's angry and bitter, because he thinks she took the kid and ran?"

Sam looked thoughtful.

"So we get kirsti to the lake to have a lifetime movie moment with a ghost that's right out of a slasher flick?" Dean was skeptical. I didn't blame him.

"I didn't get that far, actually. I know it's a long shot, but, you know." I shrugged. It was better than nothing.

"It's somewhere to start." Sam smiled reassuringly. I saw Dean's eyes narrow as he looked at his brother. Once again, I wished I spoke the Winchester's silent language.

* * *

><p>24 hours and another victim later, and we hadn't made any headway. "We need to gank this son of a bitch." Dean was pacing up and down the cabin. I sat on the floor, stretching my sore muscles. I thought I caught Dean watching me once or twice, but he looked away too fast for me to be sure.<p>

"Without a body-" Sam's nose was in his laptop, but he still tried to contrihbute.

I cleared my throat. It was still scratchy, but it hurt less to talk. "I've been thinking about our options-"

"What options?" Dean was snappish ever since they had found that last body, that morning.

"Kirsti has always talked about finding her birth parents… I think we should give my idea a shot."

Sam and Dean's first reaction was to argue. When those two got going, it was best to just let them hash it out. Sam was pro giving it a shot, Dean was anti doing anything that may get someone hurt. I was in the both of you shut the hell up and listen camp, but it took a while for them to have a break in their verbal pissing contest so I could pipe up. "Listen! Jesus. Okay, so we draw out Jacob, keep Kirsti in the dock house in a salt circle, and we lead him to her or summon him right there. Worst case, we fill him with salt shells and go back to the drawing board. Best case, we finish his business and he moves on all by himself."

Dean and I stared eachother down when I finished. He didn't trust me, and it really friggen bugged me. Then again, I didn't trust him either.

"I've got this, Dean. Jesus, I can do my part. Trust me." Dean opened his mouth to argue, and my temper flared. "I am NOT having this conversation with you. I can handle a little ghost."

Sam looked back and forth between us, shook his head, and snuck into the spare room.

"Yeah? You handled him real good last time." Dean's eyes burned. Mine flashed.

"I did a damn good job under the circumstances. I know for a fact you've been scuffed up yourself. I've see the scars." I got to my feet. My muscles protested. Traitors.

"Well… You're smarter than me. Youi should know better." Dean closed the distance between us in a few short strides. My breath caught as he softly fingered my bruises. I was going to have to start wearing a turtle neck until this damn thing was over with. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Jesus, Dean." I pushed his hand away from my throat. "you don't have to feel responsible for me." His eyes darkened as he moved even closer. "I don't know what you are trying to do, Dean, but I am going to get this ghost, alone if I have to." I took a step back. I couldn't let him cloud my mind right now. Or ever, for that matter. Not again.

"You won't be alone." Dean's voice was barely above a whisper as he sat at the table. I sighed in relief, sitting across from him.

"Okay, so what now?"

"We gank us a ghost."


	23. Wise Woman

Dean wasn't happy about it, but he was on board. When the boys and I approached Kirsti, I was really nervous about how she'd take it.

"I'm in." She said simply, after we'd explained the plan.

"You're sure?" Sam was surprised. "It'll be dangerous…" He also sounded reluctant. I couldn't blame any of them. I was terrified.

"I don't care. If this could stop him, then I'm willing to help."

I grabbed Kirsti's hand and gave it a squeeze. For all of her flaws, Kirsti was one of the bravest people I'd ever met. I knew she had a lot to process. We'd stood her whole world on its head in the last couple of days, and I figured it had to be tough for her. The boys went to prepare, and despite everything, I stayed behind to make sure my friend was okay.

"Are you okay?" Kirsti was being very quiet. It was unnerving.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I was just thinking about my real parents."

"Stacey and Jacob?"

Kirsti shook her head. "No, like, my mom and data that raised me. I thought knowing where I came from would be some great revelation. But it didn't change anything. This Stacey woman, I feel like, I don't know, I owe her for giving me this great life. If you're right about what happened to Jacob, then the least I can do for her is to set him free."

I wrapped my arms around Kirsti. I had been wrong before. Kirsti had changed. The wild rebellious girl was still there, but time had added a layer of self assurance that didn't come from knowing how good you looked in your jeans, but from knowing who you were underneath of them. I'd always secretly wanted to be like her, and now I looked up to her even more, not for who she had been, but for who she had become. It was infuriating. The least she could do was be a bitch so I could hate her.

We sat in silence for a while. When Kirsti pulled away, I could tell she had something to say.

"Whatever it is, just go on and say it." I stared her down balefully. People only had her look when they knew you weren't going to like what they said.

"Well, okay. Can I be honest?"

I nodded.

"I think you may be a little stupid."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she shushed me, tidal wave Kirsti back in full force.

"You do whatever you want with your life. It's your choice, and if you're happy, I'm happy for you. I don't know what is going on with you and Dean, but you are miserable. I've seen every one of your summer crushes, and you do this to yourself every time. I'm putting my foot down. No more." She was smiling, but I had a feeling she meant it.

I pursed my lips. What did she mean, I did this to myself? Maybe God was granting my wish, turning Kirsti into a bitch so I could feel justified for hating her. "Seriously, Kirsti? You know as well as I do, if not better, that Dean and I could never work. I obviously couldn't hold his attentions." I sighed, leaning back on the couch.

"The only people who know how a relationship will turn out are the negative people who say things won't work out. Because if you say they won't work out, they won't."

"Well, I've seen with my own eyes that he's not right for me. I heard he was pretty liberal with his attentions, but I think you'll remember that I saw it with my own eyes. He'll bang anything attractive that shows interest."

"He turned me down flat."

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. My eyes widened. "What?"

"I tried to tell you that night, but the boys came in and… Well, Oli, you've never been the easiest person to talk to. I mean, you listen to my problems well enough, but anytime I try to talk to you about you… well, you know how you are."

I was still blinking from Kirsti's little revelation. My brain chose to ignore the fact that Kirsti may have been chastising me a bit. "So, you guys didn't-"

"No! Not for lack of trying on my part, but he just wasn't interested. He was trying to politely fight my drunk ass off when you came out. He tried to explain to you, but you didn't answer when he knocked on the door to your room. I went in the bathroom to sick up my Mike's Hard, and when I came back, everyone was gone."

"Shit."

Kirsti moved a little closer. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing." I saw her face fall. "Kirsti, I do like him. But that stuff really isn't a part of my life anymore. Obviously I'm not equipped to cope with real emotional entanglement, and I'm not saddling someone with my baggage. And what if one of us got hurt, or killed? I'm not going through that again. And I'm not putting someone else through that."

"It seems to me that you are letting your hold on the people you've lost get in the way. It's not fair to them. Troy and Amelia loved you, and regardless of what happened, I know they'd want you to be happy."

Well. That was reading between the lines if I'd ever experienced it. When she said Amelia's name, I gasped. It felt like I'd been slapped in the face.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know it hurts to talk about it, and I know that unless you are forced you WON'T talk about it, and you can deny that it has anything to do with this if you want. But what kind of friend would I be if I didn't care enough to be honest? Maybe you and Dean aren't meant to be. Maybe you'll just screw around a bit and be friends. Maybe he's a tool, I don't know the guy, but not letting in the enjoyable parts of life, no matter how risky, is just plain dumb. Life is short, honey. You know that better than anyone I know."

Tidal wave Kirsti was just upgraded to a tsunami. "Are you done?" my voice was quiet. Kirsti's face was sympathetic but stern.

"I'll be done being honest when you are done being stupid."

I guess Kirsti was going to be honest forever. Our silence was drawn out.

"You're right."

"Of course."

"But I don't think Dean sees me as more than an obligations, or like, another case, someone who needs to be saved."

Kirsti was smiling. "You do need to be saved. I don't know how you missed this in Intro to Relationships, but it's usually good when a guy wants to protect you.

"He's not interested." I was being pouty, and I flushed a bit.

"How do you know that?"

"Because, we… umm… Hooked up. Once. Already. And I've been a bitch since, and he has plenty of chances to tell me if he was interested, and he didn't. He practically told me he wasn't."

"Did you ever let him get a word in edge wise, honestly?"  
>I blinked at Kirsti. Damn her for being right.<p>

"So, you boned, have crap in common, make a room foggy with sexual tension, and yet neither of you brought up the fact that, at the very least, you find each other bangable?" Kirsti was incredulous.

"No! I mean I…" I trailed off. I brought it up a lot, actually. And every time it was to tell him that we wouldn't work, or to order him to back off. "Shit."

Kirsti didn't have time to say I told you so, but her face screamed it as Sam and Dean walked back in to the house. Our conversation was cut short, but it left me nearly catatonic as I considered the implications of what she'd said. I didn't even realize we were heading down towards the dogs until Kirsti gave me a nudge. My eyes followed Dean, my mind churning all the way to the dock house.


	24. Secret

Dean set up for the invocation spell while Sam reiterated the plan with Kirsti. I handed supplies to Dean as he asked for them, but my mind was a million miles away.

"Olivia!" I blinked the fog from my eyes as Dean snapped his fingers by my ear.

"Yeah?" My stomach did flip flops as I realized how close Dean was standing.

"You here?" I nodded. "Good. I need you here." He cleared his throat. "I mean alert. You know." He was right. I wouldn't be much help in my current state. He went back to his prep work.

"Dean?" I nibbled my lip.

"Hmmm?" He was absorbed in the runes on the floor. I closed the distance between us, laying my hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and I could tell the contact surprised him. Hell, it surprised me. I didn't know what I'd planned to do or say, and we kind of just stared at each other for an awkward moment. "Ummm…" Fuck it. I swallowed hard, then dipped down, firmly kissed a shocked Dean on the lips. "For luck." I flushed red as his shock melted into one of his trademarked smirks. I turned, loading our shot guns with salt shells, hoping no one noticed the shaking in my hands. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Kirsti smile. It was just a tad bit to self satisfied for my taste.

When the prep was done, I walked the dock, stopping as I reached the end, watching the sun set over the lake. The spring air was cool over the water, and I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off a chill. I hear boots thud on the dock planks as foot falls approached me. I didn't have to look to know who it was.

Dean slipped his jacket over my shoulders. The leather smelled like him. He stood next to me, his shoulder almost touching mine.

"Does it ever get to you?" My voice was soft.

"What?"

"Having to kill things that used to be human?"

It took a moment for Dean to answer. "All the time." I slipped my hand around hiss. I must have still been under the influence of Kirsti's words. I began to think it was a mistake, but after a moment, Dean gave my hand a squeeze.

We stood there until the sun disappeared below the horizon. Without speaking another word, we headed back to the dock house. It was time to save a spirit.

"Don't leave the salt ring." Sam warned, for the hundredth time. Kirsti rolled her eyes.

"You mean this salt ring? Right here? This very one that I'm in? Right now?" Sam's sigh was long suffering. "Okay, so to clarify, this is the salt ring. That I'm standing in. That's the salt ring you mean, when you say not to leave the salt ring? Because you've said it so many times that I don't want to get confused."

I was nervous as hell, and I broke up laughing hysterically.

The boys and I held onto our shot guns as Dean read the incantation. I waited for the lights to flicker, and the emf readers to go nuts. That, I was prepared for. What I didn't expect was…. Nothing. We waited. Nothing happened.

"Why didn't it work?" I looked to Sam. He shrugged. "Well, here did you get the invocation spell?"

"Dean found it."

I looked at Dean. His look was uncharacteristically sheepish. "I found it online."

"Okay?" I walked over to him and took the sheet of paper from his hand, scanning it. "Damn it, Dean!"  
>"What!?"<p>

I sighed, the former English major in me emerging. "Wikipedia is NOT a reputable source."

Sam was staring at Dean, eyebrows up. Dean gave a small nod, and Sam rolled his eyes. I was really getting frustrated with their silent exchanges. Kirsti was quietly laughing on her stool.

"Well, according to your theory, there is another way to get the ghost here." Kirsti's eyes twinkled and I swear to god she wiggled her eyebrows at Dean and I. I was confused as hell as I felt Sam and Kirsti's eyes on me. Slowly, realization dawned on me.

"What?! No! That's-"

"I'll take one for the team." Dean shrugged smiling at me. I must have looked as appalled as I felt, because despite the fact that we were going to face to face with a murderous ghost, my response had elicited a chuckled in my companions. I turned scarlet.

"Wow, Dean, you sure know how to make a girl feel special." I glared at everyone, muttering.

"It it makes you feel any better, this is your plan, so technically, you're using me."

I met his eyes and tried to stammer out something witty, but all I could manage to force out my mouth was a strangled "Shit."

* * *

><p>an - I've been sick, so my usual self betaing is probably sub par this chapter. I promise to correct his in the future. Things are going to start moving pretty fast soon, story wise.

There may be lemons coming up.

J/s

Thanks, reviewers! Petrova, Mary Jane, Sunshine, various and sundry others, I love you all!


	25. Gimme Three Steps

Sam had positioned himself on the flat roof of the dock house. I knew he would keep his eyes firmly on the ground until go time, but that didn't make me any less nervous as Dean and I sat on a bench at the end of the dock. I was perma-flushed. It was surreal, and a little stupid, in my honest opinion.

"I hope you didn't use Wikipedia on past hunts." I looked at Dean out of the corner of my eye. He'd been doing this for years. I figured he have planned better. We should have just let Sam do the spell work.

"Nah." He was smirking. Of course. But it seemed to me that he was being a little too unapologetic. "Good thing we have a backup plan."

I sighed at Dean's words. I considered taking Kirsti's advice and just telling him my feelings, right there and then. The fact of the matter was, once the truth was in the open, I'd probably still have to leave, if only to spare us both the embarrassment and him the guilt of having to deal with my love sick ass. "Why couldn't we hunt a ghost attracted to scrapbooking?" I muttered to myself.

"Hey, if a little physical contact with me isn't what you go for, we can find someone else-"

"No!" I snapped, flushing as Dean's smile became more pronounced. The asshole just couldn't resist screwing with me. I resisted the urge to push him off the dock. Barely. "I don't particularly like public physical contact with anyone."

"Stage fright?"

"Something like that."

Dean nodded. "Okay. Close your eyes."

I looked quizzically at Dean, exhaling my anxiety, but I did as he said. I felt his hands on my arms. I felt the heat of his touch through the protection of my long sleeved shirt. I shivered.

"Cold?"

I opened my eyes and shook my head.

"Eyes closed." His voice was firm. Something about the command sent a thrill through me, and I quickly obeyed. "Good girl." His voice was a raspy purr near my ear, his lips so close I almost felt them move as his hands became more insistent.

It was all I could do to keep my eyes shut as he gripped my waist, hauling me so close that I could barely move. When his fingers grazed my breast through my shirt I moaned softly, and a growl emanated from his throat. He guided me back on to the bench, trapping my body with his own. I felt heat blooming in my core. Dean pressed against me, and I felt him harden, our clothes becoming a frustration. With my eyes closed, I could pretend it was a dream. It was certainly unreal enough.

As Dean's mouth delved deeper into my own, I forgot everything. The hunt, the danger, the recklessness of the plan all became barely an echo in my mind. I felt Dean's mouth on my neck, punishing the bruises on my skin as his fingers tangled in my hair. The part of me that balked at the inappropriate public physical contact had been commanded into silence by the affect Dean's body had on me. The wanton, womanly person that he was so adept at finding moaned loudly. I arched my back, aching for more contact.

I rebelled against reality, panting for more as Dean lifted my shirt. His teeth nipped at the top of by breasts before teasing my nipples through my bra, and I cried out for him.

The cold evening air assaulted the bare skin of my abdomen as my cries of desire became cries of alarm. My eyes flew open. The water churned around the dock, and Dean was nowhere to be found. I scrambled to pull my shirt down.

"Oli, run!" Sam cocked his shotgun at the other end of the dock.

"Dean!" My eyes searched the water, and I ignored Sam. I knew the ghost of Jacob had to be near, but I refused to leave Dean to his fate. I didn't realize I'd stopped breathing until his head broke through the water 10 yards off the dock. "Dean!" I had dropped my shotgun, ready to dive in after him.

"Damnit! Move your ass, I'm fine!"

I took a deep breath, nodding my assent. I reached down for my shot gun. I couldn't grab it. I wanted to. Very badly, in fact, but a pair of water logged Chuck Taylor's stood in my way. I followed the pale legs up, craning my neck, frozen in shock as my eyes met' Jacob's.

"Whore." His voice was gravely.

"Jacob-" Mine was barely a whisper.

I thought I saw a flash of… something… on his face, but I didn't have time to process it as he cocked back, slapping me across the dock. I landed hard against the bench, gasping for air. He'd knocked the breath out of me, and I Saw stars as he descended on me.

My gun was even farther from my reach. His clawed fingers reached for my throat. I could feel time slow as Jacob moved, standing over me, his legs on either side of mine, trapping me in place. I fought the panic that gripped me.

I had no idea what was happening around me as time finally stopped. Years passed in those few seconds, until a shot gun blasted rocketed time forward, salt shells tearing through the bend and the dock. Jacob's attention shifted from me to search for the source of the assault, and I pulled my knees to my chest, kicking out desperately with all my strength.

I learned a very valuable lesson in that moment as I made contact. I learned that dead or alive, when you kick a guy in the balls, it hurts.

I managed to roll to the side before he landed on me, forgoing my gun as I scrambled up the dock. My one mistake was looking over my shoulder to check on Dean. He had made it to the dock and had our guns. I could taste my relief that he was okay. Jacob was moving up the dock towards me. His movements jerked. My feet caught on themselves and I went ass over applecart, rolling to a stop at the end of the dock. Sam had jumped down from the roof, hoisting me to my feet and leveling his gun on the Dead Dock Boy.

"Bitch." Jacob's eyes were dark with hat and anger. He ignored Sam at first, taking another step towards me, a guttural, evil laugh growing in his throat as he reached for me. I took a step back, trying to get out of the way in case Sam had to fire off a round. Sam pumped the shot fun. Jacob's attention snapped to him. The ghost snarled, knocking the barrel out of the way was Sam pulled the trigger.

"Sam!" Dean and I yelled a warning at the same time, but Jacob had caught Sam off guard, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and tossing all of Sam's gangly ass in the shallow water by the dock. Dean pumped his shot gun. I shrank away, expecting Jacob to turn his attention to the new threat.

Did I ever mention how often I'm wrong?  
>I lost track of my place in the world as cold, clammy arms wrapped around my waist, spinning with supernatural speed. I cried out as his grip tightened on my bruised ribs. My first instinct was to lash out, grimacing through the pain. My right arm was free. I turned my body to the left and whipped back, my elbow up at an odd angle to try and catch Jacob in the chin. I made glancing contact, but he just laughed, snatching my wrist and bending my arm up behind me, using the force with which he pressed himself to me to hold it in place. His long fingers snaked around my neck. The pain was immediate, and I thrashed against his hold, but he was immovable.<p>

I was running out of oxygen, and my futile fight was wasting precious air. I could feel the blood pounding in my head as I willed myself to relax. Dean was less than five feet from me, Sam back on the dock Next to him, holding my abandoned gun.

They looked like a pair of drowned rats, and as my vision darkened, yet again, my inner crazy person almost laughed at how absurd they looked. My eyes locked on Dean's. His were wide, unblinking. His jaw was set, and his nostrils flared. He never lowered his gun. I wished I could tell him to shoot. Rock salt would hurt, but I'd live.

"You let her go, you Son of a Bitch!" Dean's voice was far away. I barely heard it over the rushing blood pounding in my ears.

"Jacob!"

I felt Jacob's death hardened body stiffen. His fingers loosened just a fraction, and I let out a strangled cry (pardon my choice of words). "Kirsti, no!"

I world moved on its own again, and I was falling. As the dock rose up to meet me, it seemed I should be doing something, but movement was beyond me as I slumped. I closed my eyes, preparing for impact, but it never came. Strong arms wrapped around my waist. I didn't have the energy to cry out in pain, but Dean was careful as he shifted me back to my feet, his arms around me, keeping me up. In my fog, I vaguely remembered being scared for my friend. I turned in Dean's arms, ready to dive at Kirsti, for all the small amount of good it would do.

"Oh, Jacob," Kirsti's sympathy was sincere, her eyes soft as she stood in front of the ghost of her biological dad. The lights on the dock glowed dimly, casting eerie shadows on the two as they faced each other.

Jacob's sickly complexion seemed to glow, reflecting the minimal light, and magnifying it. They were in profile to us, and I watched in awe as the anger, hate, and pain on his face melted into confusion. Kirsti took a step towards him. His mouth moved as if he were trying to find words that had left him long ago. As awareness dawned on the ghost's face, I saw the echo of the young man from the picture in the paper.

"Stacey?" the word tore from his throat.

"Stacey… my mom…" Kirsti closed the rest of the distance between them, grabbing Jacob's hand as he stared at her, dumbfounded. "She couldn't come back for you Jacob. She loved you a lot. When she lost you, she couldn't take it. They locked her up at St. Luke's. That's where she was when…. Well, I was born there about 8 months after you died."

Jacob's glow brightened as she spoke. He reached out, placing his hand on Kirsti's cheek, softly. "She loved you so much, she wanted to make sure your daughter had a good life. She put me up for adoptions." The final puzzle piece had fallen into place. Jacob looked ethereal, almost angelic. "She wanted to come back for you, Jacob." Kirsti's voice had fallen to a whisper.

"I- I told her to run." As Jacob came back to himself, the relief was written across his face. "He was so angry, I didn't want him to hurt her, or the baby. He held me under the water for so long. Someone came for me, but I didn't want to go with them until I'd seen Stacey one last time. I couldn't leave, and she never came back…" Tears fell from both of their eyes. Through the sadness, Jacob smiled. "You're happy?"

Kirsti nodded, her smile watery as Jacob enveloped her in a hug. The light surrounding them was so bright, I had to close my eyes, and I Could still see the glow. Dean set a warm, calloused hand on my brow, shielding me from the blinding light.

I focused on the warmth of Dean's touch to distract myself from the aching that was coming to the forefront throughout my whole body. We stayed that way for a minute. Or maybe an eternity. It's hard to tell when Dean is touching me. "You did good." Dean's voice moved through me as he whispered in my ear. My eyes fluttered open and I sagged against him in relief. Kirsti stood a few feet in front of us, smiling through her tears, completely alone.


	26. Heart to Heart

The boys and Ninja slept in the cabin, and I stayed with Kirsti. No one spoke much as we parted ways. I was half tempted to stop Dean. I wanted to kiss him, tell him how much I wanted him, and thank him for… something. I hadn't thought it that far out. The rational part of me made sure I kept my stupid mouth shut.

My whole body protested when morning came. I was really banged up. I held a hand against my side as I hobbled out of Kirsti's bed. My ribs were bruised pretty badly. My face felt hot and swollen. It pulsed in time with the blood in my veins. I was a little surprised to see that Kirsti was up and out of the house. She may not have taken the physical beating I did, but last night wasn't exactly easy for her.

After a good long hobble to the bathroom, hobbling to the shower, and hobbling around IN the shower with the lights off, I felt a little like myself again. It took a few moments to work up the courage, but I finally flipped on the lights. I groaned at the face that stared back at me. The bruises from a few days ago were a sort of sickly green, and my new marks were a nice angry red and purple. At least my stitches had held. Each lump and bruise served as a reminder, just as the ones that had come before. The aches and pains sucked, and I certainly wouldn't be winning any beauty pageants any time soon, but I had survived, dammit. The girl looking back at me had made it. She had faced death, and come out stronger.

I threw on Kirsti's old terry cloth robe, my stomach loudly reminding me that even though gals need to eat. I shuffled to the kitchen, yawning. Eggs, bacon and strong coffee were just what the doctor ordered. I made enough for everyone. The thought of sitting down to breakfast with Dean…. I drifted, indulging and a happy homemaker fantasy that was impossible to achieve as I cooked.

"Eh-hem…"

"Sweet baby Jesus!" I nearly dropped my mixing bowl, spinning around. "Sam, you scared the hell out of me!"

Sam smiled, just turning up the corners of his mouth as he walked in to the kitchen. "Sorry."

I was still breathing hard, wincing as my lungs pushed against my ribs. "No problem." I rasped. "I'm just not used to being around stealthy men, I guess."

We slipped into our usual companionable silence as I cooked, scrambling up a big batch of eggs and frying a pig's worth of bacon.

"Smells good."

I smiled over my shoulder at Sam. It was clear he was just as complicated as his brother, but he was so earnest, it was hard not to feel at ease around him. It almost made me wish my heart had been a little more reasonable about which Winchester it wanted. "I used to hate eggs, but I'm all about a good breakfast now. Especially after having my ass kicked."

Sam's smile deepened, and I turned the food down, leaning on the island across from him. "How do you guys unwind after a hunt?"

Sam shrugged. "Booze, mostly. I run, and Dean gets la- Uh… Socializes."

I took a deep breath, grimacing from the twinge in my ribs as I nodded. "To each their own." I turned to go back to my cooking, but Sam's hand on mine stopped me.

"Dean puts a lot of pressure on himself." I cocked my head to the side. Sam was coming out of left field, as far as I was concerned. He pursed his lips. "He feels responsible for everyone."

I had to fight my instincts to run from the conversation. I assumed that Sam had come to let me down gently, either out of pity or because Dean didn't have the balls to do it himself. I gathered myself control, sighing as I waited for Sam to continue.

"When people get hurt, he blames himself. Especially if he cares about them."

That caught my attention. I met Sam's eyes. "When I went to hell-" I grimaced, and same smiled sardonically. "We've both spent so much time there, we should have a summer house." My eyes widened and he chuckled. "Anyway, Dean stopped hunting. He had a normal life with a great girl. He helped raise her son, and was generally happy. But, what we do… it leaks over, every time. He left to protect them. They almost died anyways because of a demon who wanted to get to Dean. If it weren't for Cas-" Sam paused, taking a deep breath. "It got to him. He cut ties to protect them, and I don't know that he's over it."

My brow furrowed. "What are you saying Sam?" I whispered. He huffed out a puff of air.

"Do you promise not to tell Dean about this conversation?"

I nodded once, confused. I didn't understand why Sam had come, and I definitely didn't get his point.

"Dean needs people, even though he won't admit it. He lives and dies by the people he saves. It would be hard for him to watch someone he cares about face the things we face. Dean needs someone who can protect themselves. And maybe him sometimes, too."

"Sam, I'm super lost."

"I guess I'm saying, I approve?"

My laughter was nervous and little forced. I grimaced at another twinge in my ribs. "Approve of what? We aren't-"

"Maybe you should be."

Sam was so serious, it brought me up short. "That's not just up to me." I sighed.

Sam tried to conceal a smile. "If it were up to either of you, I'd be spending the next 20 years, miserable, listening to the two of you bicker while you avoid the subject."

I blushed, looking down at the counter top for a moment. The corners of Sam's mouth were turned up in a small smile. Clearing my throat, I turned back to the food to avoid fidgeting. I turned the burners off, grabbing plates and handing them to Sam as I grabbed silverware. He followed me to the table, and we laid everything out like a nice family meal. I don't know what possessed me, but I opened my mouth, spilling out my lingering doubts.

"Sam, what if… One of us could get hurt." My lower lip trembled, and I felt foolish.

"I know you'd look out for him."

I pursed my lips. Sam slipped an arm around my shoulders, giving me a friendly squeeze. "You and Dean are so stubborn, you'd kill each other long before you ever let anything hurt either of you." I snorted, shaking my head. Sam stepped away so I could make my way back to the kitchen.

I moved as quickly as I could to Kirsti's room and her well stocked closet when Sam went to collect his brother. I didn't want to face Dean in a bathrobe, or last night's hunting clothes.

I tried to find something simple, but in Kirsti's closet, that was quite a task. Even her gym clothes were bright and form fitting. I finally dug out a pair of black yoga pants with the tags still on them and tossed them on to the bed along with a deep eggplant tank top. It was loose enough that it wouldn't fit like a second skin, but it still clung to me in a way I hadn't allowed my clothes to do in a long time. The neck line as low, but Audrey Hepburn low, as opposed to Marilyn Monroe. I was getting ready to call Kirsti about the pants when she breezed in.

"Morning!" I was startled by how bright she sounded.

"Hey. How are you?" Kirsti smiled at the concern in my voice.

"I should be asking you that." Her face grew somber as the surveyed my battle scars.

"I'm great. Never better. Well, I'm alive, and it's a good day for a big greasy breakfast. Hey, I don't want to eat in my robe… could I-"

"You don't even have to ask. The boys are already at the table. I gave Ninja some left overs, and Dean looks ready to eat his arm. He's pissed that he has to wait but the dog doesn't. I gave them strict orders, no breakfast until we are joined by the chef."

I knew better than to respond to any one of her statements until she slowed to a stop. I gave her the required beat to make sure she was done, getting dressed. I cringed, partially from trying to ignore the pain in my side and partially from how tight the boot cut black lycra was. "You didn't answer my question." I peeked over my shoulder at Kirsti. She was freshening up in front of the vanity.

"Hmmm? Oh, I'm fine."

"Fine, or 'fine?'" I did air quote around the second fine, because I'm lame like that.

"Both. It's a lot to take in, but I know I'll be okay. I went to church with mom and Dad and asked them about Jacob and Stacey. They confirmed everything. Not that I needed it, after last night. I guess they knew- I mean, know, Stacey pretty well. She didn't' want them to tell me, but she gave them a letter to give me if I ever asked about her.

I met Kirsti's eyes in the vanity reflection. She looked surprisingly at peace. "I owe her a lot. I owe her everything, actually."

"She did right by you in the only way she could." I shrugged, suddenly feeling a pang of my own feelings of loss as I considered how Stacey must have felt, giving up her baby girl and the last piece she had of the man she loved because it was the right thing to do. Almost in unison, we wiped a tear, blinking back more. "we are a sorry pair." My smile was watery.

"Maybe. Although I'd like to think we are a fabulous pair of girls with a couple of hungry, hu8t guys waiting in my kitchen."

My heart fluttered and I flushed, thinking of Dean. Kirsti grinned at my reaction and took my hand, leading me out of the bedroom.


	27. Love is a Battlefield

Despite my nerves, breakfast was surprisingly pleasant. I am certain in hindsight that Kirsti and Sam were in cahoots. They sat across the table from Dean and me, forcing us in to close quarters. We shared funny moments from our different hunts (They were shockingly frequent) and Kirsti was nearly crying with laughter.

"So-" She panted for a moment, catching her breath. "There are books about the two of you?"

Dean looked at Sam with flat eyes. He was not happy with the turn in conversation. I held my side to ease the ache as I giggled along. "That means you have fan girls!" I could barely get the words out before Kirsti and I shrieked in laughter. Sam looked at Dean and shrugged. Dean's jaw tightened, and it made me laugh harder, bracing myself against the table.

"Yeah, we have a lot of fans." Dean's eyes locked on Sam's, and he smirked. "Don't we Sammy? Remember Becky?"

We were still giggling as we faced Sam. His skin blanched, his eyes doubling in size as they widened. His mouth worked, but he stuttered, unable to force out any words.

"Thought we were sharing stories, Sammy." Dean grinned.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

It was the best breakfast I could remember in a long time.

The boys and I headed back to the cabin after breakfast. I smiled as they bantered back and forth. They had been through a lot, but there they were, still, well, them. I envied their strength.

None of us really brought up exactly what would happen next, unless you counted Sam and I's chat earlier in the day. It was Minnesota warm (That means still chilly, BTW) and I had hoped to put off the inevitable for a day or two longer while I enjoyed the spring weather. I learned quickly that afternoon that down time was just not a thing with the Winchesters. Sam immediately hit up the resorts free wifi on his lap top and Dean started setting out weapons for cleaning the minute we got back to the cabin. I felt a little out of place in the well oiled Winchester machine. I glanced towards Dean. When his eyes fell on my face, they tightened.

"You should see the other guy." I smiled sheepishly. Dean's lips quirked up a bit before he returned to his work.

I exhaled in a gust, stretching my aching muscles. I sighed in relief as I felt some of my tension work away. My ribs would trouble me for at least a few weeks, and my hip and a huge knot in it that would need some TLC, but otherwise, I already felt on the mend. I blushed as I felt my breasts press against my top. I caught Dean looking at me from the corner of my eye, and my blush deepened from his scrutiny.

"You should hit up that Jacuzzi." When I turned to Dean, his attention was firmly back on the gun he was cleaning.

"I'd love to… but I'm sure there is something I can do-"

Dean cut me off. "You did your share yesterday." When his eyes came up, his focus snapped to the bruises on my neck. I took a deep breath, preparing for a fight.

"We all did what we had to, Dean."

His eyes flashed, and my stomach flipped over on itself. My ribs protested the quick breaths that puffed out of my lungs under that gaze. Every part of me wanted to look away, but I held my ground. Slowly, deliberately, Dean set down the gun he was cleaning. "You got hurt because I made a selfish choice."

My gaze met Sam's as he looked up from the computer. His face had I told you so written all over it.

"Dean, I'm fine. I'm great, even. My ribs hurt more from laughing at Sam at breakfast than they do from last night." Dean's eyes rose skyward as if he were prettying for resolve. Maybe he was.

"We almost got you killed yesterday. In one case with us, you've earned stitches, a dislocated shoulder, bruised ribs, and a limp you're doing your damndest to hide. I'm a selfish ass hat. I swear to whoever is in charge upstairs right now that I will PUT you in that tub if you don't go on your own." The coldness of guilt was replaced with the fire of Dean's anger. He was so mad at himself that someone he'd decided to protect had gotten hurt on his watch, that I felt my own guilt blooming from making HIM hurt. I nearly laughed out loud. Dean was clearly bemused by my reaction, and the confusion on his furrowed brow pushed me over the edge. I sagged on to the fold out, bruised rib be damned. My eyes were tearing up as I held my sides, laughing until I ran out of breath. Sam and Dean both looked ready to throw me an impromptu exorcism by the time I finally calmed down.

"Sorry." I hiccupped a bit, and nearly fell into a giggling fit as the boys shared a look in their silent language that I believe meant 'what the hell.' Sam looked completely bewildered, and dean looked a wee bit butt hurt. You'd almost think I burst out laughing while he was having a chick flick moment.

I snapped my mouth shut and took a deep breath in through my nose, exhaling through my mouth in a long, slow, and drawn out breath. My grin wouldn't go away, but I gave myself firm instructions not to giggle snort as I began to explain. "Dean… We should probably stop the guilt off now before we drive poor Sam nuts. You feel bad I got injured. Okay. Well, I feel bad that you feel bad. Then you feel worse that I feel bad. So I feel horrible, which makes me irritable, and we are all just a little more unhappy than we were a few minutes ago. It's sort of stupid. And exhausting. We should stop." I made it through my entire shpeel without a single giggle, snort, or giggle snort hybrid. For once, myself had listened to… um… myself.

Dean was not amused. (I have that affect on him.) He also was not convinced. His footsteps were firm and purposeful as he approached. His brows had arched up, and the incredulity had creased the skin of his forehead. I found the angry set of his jaw distracting. Part of me felt bad. Another part of me wanted to trail kisses along his jaw until it stopped looking so tense and he carried me into my room to pick up where we left off last night. The final part of me, once so strong, but waning now, still wanted to run from Dean, my feelings, and all the risks and possibilities they posed. Frankly, I felt slightly schizophrenic. I didn't like it. I allowed my psyche its civil war as I stared Dean down. There was no doubt that we were in for an interesting day, for good or ill.

"This is serious." His voice was dark and quiet, a storm barely restrained. "Your life is serious. You can't laugh something like this off. Your life was in danger. I put your life in danger."

I suppressed a sigh. "But it IS my life, Dean. I understand danger. I know something bad could have gone down yesterday. But it didn't. I'm banged up, so what? We did the do. Ass was kicked, names were taken, and we are all here today."

The war inside me raged, despite the smile I showed Dean. I heard the cabin door shut. Sam had given up on finding a case in the same room as our lifetime movie moment. He took Ninja with him, leaving us to our interpersonal drama. Somehow, I was standing, closing the distance between Dean and I. "I could have insisted we find another spell, Dean." I bit my lip, making up my mind in the moment. "I didn't want to." I felt my skin burn from the admission, and I plowed forward before I had time to second guess myself. "You may have missed this, but I had a say in whether that little part of the plan happened, and I chose to do it. I chose to do all of it, even if we didn't know for sure what would happen. It was my plan, and if something went wrong, it would have been on me, Dean. Not you." We were close enough that I had to crane my stiff neck to make eye contact.

"Yeah… well… It didn't." I could see Dean desperately stretching for an argument.

"My point exactly." If it weren't for the bruises, my smile would have rivaled Kirsti's for radiance. At least, that's how I felt with Dean looking at me, anger slowly chilling as he moved slightly closer. His eyes still looked strained as he brushed his fingers across my neck, tracing the marks there. I saw his focus stray from me as a whole to my injuries. I refused to let him feel bad for me, or think of me as someone he was responsible for. It was too much pressure for both of us.

I did my best to keep my smile strong as I reached for his hand, wrapping both of mine around it. I had no idea where I was going with this, but I wasn't going to stop until Dean was distracted from thoughts of what could have been.

"Here's what's going to happen now, Dean." My voice was breath as Dean's stare slid up my neck, lingering on my lips before reaching my eyes. His smoldered. Distraction achieved. He had moved so close that I felt his breath and my own shallow breaths became more rapid. "I'm going to do as I'm told, and take a nice long soak in the Jacuzzi tub. When I'm done, you are going to rub my shoulders. They kill." I was on my tip toes now, our lips almost touching. As his eyes started to close and an arm looped around me, I noticed that the war I'd been fighting against myself had halted, leaving me oddly calm. I slipped my arms around Dean's neck, kissing his warm lips softly. It was pretty clear which side had won.


	28. Gimme Shelter

I hate to admit it, but Dean was right. The Jacuzzi soak was just what the doctor ordered. The jets beat the ache in my muscles into submission. I dozed off for a bit, purring from the relaxing heat. For once, nothing bothered me. I looked forward to whatever was going to happen next with expectation as opposed to apprehension and fear. I'd left my weapons in the great room, confident that nothing would get to me with Sam and Dean on the other side of the wall. It was funny, feeling safe for the first time in so long now, when I could be up against any sort of boogie man tomorrow.

"Are you going to say it now, or should I wait?"

My eyes snapped open and I splashed half off the water out of the tub as my arms flapped up to protect my modesty. "Jesus, Dean! What the hell are you doing in here?" I was panting a bit, wincing as my ribs ached.

"Just figured I give you the chance to tell me I was right. About the Jacuzzi." Dean was leaning against the door frame, wearing that damned smirk of his.

"I'd have made it in here on my own, eventually." My breathing had regulated itself, but I found that my heart was still pounding excitedly from being so close to Dean. His smirk deepened into a smile. I sank back into the tub, avoiding looking at Dean as he watched me. "Okay, fine, Dean. Thanks for making me take a bath. There. Now that's done, is there something else I can help you with?"

Dean stepped away from the door frame. "Nah. But I'd be happy to help you. Why don't I wash your back?"

I gasped, my eyes widening. Dean burst out laughing. "God, you are such a prude." He shook his head as I glared at him. I was kicking myself. Here I was, alone with Dean, naked, and not doing my damndest to get him an equal level of nakedness. Kirsti would have been so disappointed in me.

"Prude?" I met Dean's gaze. I'd show him friggen' prude. It was tough to ignore the pain in my side and my hip as I slowly stood, praying I didn't slip, keeping my eyes on Dean's. I wanted to see his reaction as I rose naked from the tub, dripping with soapy bath water. I could see his throat move as he swallowed. I grinned, stepping out of the tub. I tried to do my best sex kitten walk, licking my lips. The way he looked at me as I stood there, bare and a little vulnerable, made me want to beg him to take me. Like, yesterday.

I intended to grab a towel off of the rack behind Dean. I stood on my tip toes, pressed flush against a very surprised, and from what I could feel, every pleased Dean. My hands slid up Dean's chest and over his shoulders, and I wrapped an arm around his neck. Dean growled. His arms snapped closed like a steal trap. So much for a towel tease. Dean chuckled as my eyes widened. When he dipped his head, instinct took over, and I pushed him back towards the wall. Well, he let me, anyways. I squealed a bit as he swung me around, the cold tile wall sending a shock through me as he hefted me up.

Yup. Definitely failed at my "Let's Tease Dean" plan.

I whimpered as my weight settled against his hips, my legs wrapping around him. I felt heat building in me as he moved. My ribs ached, my hip throbbed, and the rest of me didn't give a shit. I didn't ask Dean to go easy, because I didn't want him to. From the way his hands tangled in my hair, holding my mouth to his, I wasn't sure he even could.

We devoured each other. I moved against him faster as the friction of his jeans drove me wild. I was desperate, clawing at his clothes. I made a triumphant sound when I finally ripped the front of his shirt, and I felt the hard lines of his chest hot against my soft curves.

As Dean's arms slipped under my hips, I closed my eyes. I heard a rustling noise, and I panted, my back arched to increase the pressure building in me. I felt myself being lifted again, and my eyes met Dean's. I was mesmerized by the heat of his gaze.

Dean paused for a moment, and my eyes moved to his lips. They could have been better utilized if they were on me, anywhere. His fingers tipped up my chin. He forced my gaze to stay on his as he slowly lowered me, wrapping my legs around him. He held me there, so close to what he had that I needed.

"Tell me, baby…."

I whimpered.

"Tell me what you want." His eyes held mine. I knew exactly what I wanted, but I wasn't really able to spit it out.

'Dean, will you pretty please fuck me silly,' or 'Screw my brains out, now,' were not phrases that I kept in my handy dandy verbal tool box.

Dean's hands worked against my breasts, teasing and tweaking my nipples. I arched my back again, trying to say the words with my body. I reached for Dean, and he smirked, tsking at me. "Nuh-uh, baby. Tell me what you want."

I groaned. The rat bastard was going to hold my orgasm hostage. "Dean…" The asshole wanted me to beg.

"Yeah?" He shifted his weight. I could feel him poised and ready between my legs.

"You, Dean. Damnit. I want you." I closed my eyes, and Dean pulled me close. My back wasn't to the wall anymore.

"Look at me." I responded to his command instantly. I hoped Dean never learned how much control he had over my body. He set me on the edge of the counter. Before I had time to beg again, he had my legs open, grasping my knees for leverage as he slammed into me. My whole body shuddered, and I came around Dean instantly, panting as he thrust harder, holding me in place with a hand on the small of my back. As I climbed towards another release, I realized I'd wasted so much time. It occurred to me how much of, well, this, I could have been enjoying.

With each thrust, his hand in my hair pulled me down onto him harder. I held eye contact as long as I could, but Dean shifted, and his thrusts started to connect against my sweet spot. My head fell back, leaning against the mirror as another wave hit me. I couldn't support my own weight. Dean leaned with a palm on the mirror, looking down at where we were connected as he groaned, another of my orgasms clutching him as he came.

Dean pulled me close, our bodies slick with sweat. He remained inside of me as he held me to him, kissing my neck and shoulders softly.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I'm not a prude."

Dean's laugh moved through my whole body. His hands cupped my face as he kissed me softly. "I guess not." He was still smiling as he pulled away, wrapping me in a big fluffy towel. I looked questioningly at Dean. Just because I was sure of how I felt, didn't mean I wasn't nervous as hell about him. "We've got research to do." Dean kissed my neck, smiling as he buckled his jeans. I felt the warmth of reassurance blossom within me.

A/N- Gratuitous. I want to assure you all that I meant this chapter to further the story, but when I started writing, the above occured. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it, despite the fact that the plot didn't advance at all. The plot probably won't advance too much for the next couple of chapters, hint hint, nudge nudge, if you all catch my meaning ;)


	29. And In The End

I dressed in my own clothes, goose bumps moving across my skin. Dean sat on the end of the bed, lacing his boots, watching me move. I pulled a black t-shirt over my head, crossing in front of Dean, completely on edge from his scrutiny, but relaxed from our, ahem, activities.

I bent to dig some jeans out of my duffle and gasped as Dean's arms snaked around my waist. I tensed. Dean chuckled, pulling me back on to the bed. My breath was shallow as Dean ran a hand down my side. I winced when he placed pressure on the knot on my hip. "Ah-ha! Found your limp." I squeezed my eyes shut as he probed the knot in my muscles. It hurt like a bitch. "Relax. Trust me." I did my best to do as I was told. I lay back, closed my eyes, and tried not to whine as his fingers worked on my hip. His other hand ran through my hair.

It wasn't until his lips touched mine that I realized that knot was gone. When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine. "We are kinda dumb, aren't we?"

I took a deep breath, playing with the frayed edge of his ripped shirt. "Undoubtedly."

Dean grinned, flopping back on the bed. "Think the monsters would mind if we just stayed here?"

I sighed, sitting up. "The monsters wouldn't, but the people we help sure would." I felt tingly as his hand traced circles on the four leafed clover tattoo on my lower back.

There were a lot of things I wanted to say, but I knew I would screw up the moment if I opened my mouth, so I just kept silent, enjoying just being there with Dean.

"I know the answer, but I have to ask. Any chance you'd sit the next job out?" I glanced at Dean out of the corner of my eye. "What if I said please?"

"Not gonna happen." I smirked, giving Dean a taste of his own, infuriating medicine as I stood. After a couple day s in Kirsti's clothes, mine jeans and t-shirt felt baggy and frumpy, and I frowned a bit. Dean kept watching, and I flushed. "What?"

"I'm debating if I should tie you up again and just keep you in my bedroom."

"Probably not. It's kinda creepy." I grinned. How stupid was I, not to enjoy this before now? "I'll make you a deal, Dean."

He moved behind me, his hands on my hips, his face hidden by my hair as he kissed my neck. "Sam and I don't have the best experience with deals." Dean nipped at my neck.

"Well, regardless… You can tie me up as much as you want, as long as it's between jobs."

Dean's hands snaked up my shirt. "Tempting." I leaned back against him, his hard warmth reassuring. "But I want you to be safe. And safe and I aren't even in the same zip code."

I turned, wrapping my arms around his neck, kissing along his jaw like I'd wanted to do so many times before now. He growled a bit. "You are persuasive." I grinned

"Debate team captain. Although back then the tactics were a bit different."

"Nerd."

I pressed a kiss to his mouth. "You know it."

"You should-"

I cut Dean off. "If the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with me going off to find a normal life, the next thing I gank, will be you. This is my normal now, Dean."

"You're stubborn as hell."

"So I've been told." I smiled

"Sam and I make this life double dangerous."

"I've been told that too."

Dean shook his head, closing his eyes "What the hell are we doing?" To say that he looked conflicted would be a major understatement.

"Saving people. Hunting things."

Dean chuckled. "The family business."

"More exciting than my family business." I laughed. "It's safe to say I'm probably not gonna end up a school teacher."

"You still could." Dean's face was serious, and I sighed.

"No." Stepped away from Dean, moving to the door. "I've long since gotten out of my family business. And I'm not gonna let you leave me behind."

The end of Part one

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><p>An- I love you all so much! Sunshine, Mary Jane, Petrova, Wide Awake, Sammi, Quiet Wanderer, BJQ... I weas going to leave you all thinking this was the end... But I can't be mean and psyche you guys like that. I will say that I am plugging away at part two. It's nearly half done, and I will start posting chapters as SOON as I get my keyboard in the mail. (Tomorrow!) I'm sorry this is so short, but I PROMISE to make it up to you within the first two chapters of part two, which will go up as soon as tomorrow. Thanks for all the kind words, constructive criticism, and mutual fangirling. Everyone needs someone to fangirl with! :)


	30. Soon

Soon...

Oliva has finally gotten wise to the fact that Dean may actually share the same feelings for her. She has finally given up on running away the chance at happiness that traveling with Dean and Sam has given her, and has started to focus her attentions on convincing Dean that leaving her behind is not the best way to keep her safe, or either of them happy.

Despite her vow to move forward, their upcoming case forces Olivia to face the ghosts of her past in a very real way. After a hard fought battle to get her life back, will Olivia finally lose the war? Or will Dean save more than just her life as she gets into her new family business?

Coming soon...

The Family Business

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><p>AN- I am SOOOOOOO sorry about how long this is taking. The next installment is being difficult, and we just found out my favorite aunt is terminal. Olivia's adventures with Sam and Dean are my escape, so I promise more is coming soon. I figured I would give anquick sneak peak so you all would know that you aren't forgotten. You can thank Mary Jane for the preview of the next installment. I will be on a plane all day tomorow so hopefully I will get some chapters of my next installment up.


	31. Part 2 is UP!

For my reader's who have story alerts and not author alerts, I have started posting part two! Four chapters are up, including one lemon! Thanks for your patience while I got everything started, and I hope you keep sticking with me as I get my fic on!


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